Where I Belong
by ladygris
Summary: After EatG, Carson leaves the city to become a small-town doctor in idyllic Esperanza, New Mexico.  What will happen when events of the town trigger his memories of his time with Michael?  Winner of NaNoWriMo 2011.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Stargate: Atlantis or its wonderful characters. I am responsible for the original characters, however. Any original character and setting is from the imagination of the author and not based on a person or location, living or fictional.

**Author's ****Note:** This story had several stages. It started out several years ago as an original novel that never got off the ground. Then, when NaNoWriMo came about this year, I decided to start working on that original novel. Through some brainstorming with **Ani-maniac494**, that idea morphed into this idea. A special thanks to **Ani-maniac494** and **pisces317** for help with brainstorming, as well as to **theicemenace** for help with brainstorming and beta-ing this work for me. The story is complete, and it is a winner in the NaNoWriMo 2011 challenge. A chapter will post each day from now until Christmas. It contains spoilers for any and all episodes of Atlantis and for my story "Captive." Also, there is no such town as Esperanza, New Mexico. That is a setting I created based somewhat on the New Mexico town where I live (though my town is much bigger). Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

_RUN!_

_The word echoed through his head as he wrenched his arm away from the hands holding it. The creature behind him growled and let out an unearthly scream as the contents of the syringe he'd injected into its stomach began its work. He took off as quickly as his feet could carry him, dodging around the nearest corner and nearly tripping over debris from a collapsed warehouse._

_RUN! __Run-run-run! __It __became __a __mantra __with __every __pounding __footstep. __Every __turn, __every __jump, __every __moment __when __he __nearly __tripped __on __his __own __feet __or __shoelaces __became __a __panic-filled __eternity __as __he __gasped __for __air __and __tried __to __be __as __quiet __as __possible. __It __was __difficult __to __do __so __when __he __just __wanted __to __get __away. __Away __from __the __demands. __Away __from __the __thought __of __what __he'd __been __told __to __do. __Away __from _him_._

_He rushed around another corner and stopped for just a moment. His lungs felt as if they'd burst, and he needed a few moments to catch his breath. He bent forward, placing his hands on his knees as he sucked oxygen through his open mouth. Sweat trickled down his face, and he straightened while drawing a deep breath through his nose. By doing so, he released nitric oxide into his blood stream, resulting in more oxygen being carried to his muscles._

_After __those __deep __breaths, __he ran __again. __He'd __managed __to __lose __himself __in __the __complex, __and __he __only __hoped __his __captors __were __as __turned __around __as __he __was. __After __all, __they __were __the __ones __who __wanted __him __to __do __the __unthinkable. __He __couldn't. __He __just __could _not _violate __his __Oath. __Not __now. __Not __ever. __It __would __take __more __than __threats __of __death __and __that __bloody __sedative __cocktail __he'd __been __given __to __get __him __to __do __anything __other __than __wait __for __rescue._

_His people wouldn't leave him behind. He knew that, was certain of it. He was too important to them. As Chief of Medicine, he could not be gone for long. Not without his friends coming to rescue him from this horrible place._

_He rounded a corner, and his foot connected with a massive chunk of concrete. His arms pinwheeled as he went forward, and he barely caught himself as his hands scraped painfully. Tiny rocks and splinters drove themselves into his palms, his elbow connecting with the edge of the block as his knee took the brunt of his fall. Gasping at the pain, he rolled onto his back. Blinking away the tears, he pushed himself back to his feet again and limped around the corner._

_His __knee __screamed __at __him __to __quit __moving, __be __still! __With __every __step, __he __felt __it __grow __weaker __and __weaker. __If __he __didn't __stop, __the __injury __would __progress __from __a __bruise__—__and __possible __tear__—__to __something __infinitely __more __severe. __If __he _did _stop, __he'd __be __captured. __Faced __with __the __two __options, __he __chose __to __keep __running._

_He __fell __again, __this __time __because __his __knee __gave __way. __He __was __unprepared, __and __the __pain __temporarily __blinded __him. __His __face __connected __with __the __ground, __a __sharp __stone __gouging __into __his __eyebrow __as __the __skin __on __his __cheek __tore. __It __wasn't __deep __enough __to __scar, __but __it __stung __fiercely. __Gathering __the __remainder __of __his __strength, __he __managed __to __get __on __all __fours. __But __his __knee __would __not __support __weight. __When __he __climbed __to __his __feet, __he __took __one __step __before __his __knee __collapsed __yet __again. __He __ground __his __teeth __together, __stifling __the __scream __into __a __groan. __This __could _not _be __happening! __He __needed __to __get __to __the __Gate, __to __get __out __of __here, __to __get __back __to __Atlantis __with __its __bright __infirmary __and __safety. __Once __there, __he'd __be __given __the __pain __medication __his __body __ached __to __have._

_Footsteps around a corner drew him out of the momentary fantasy. Injured knee or no, he was going to escape! He turned and took two limping steps before a group of figures rounded the corner ahead of him. Their grotesque, bone-like masks covered the entirety of their faces, the long white hair falling in unkempt locks past their shoulders. The skin on their arms was a sickly blue, and he knew he'd face their wrath if they caught him. Long, rifle-looking weapons were clutched at their waist, and they aimed at him._

_He turned to head the other way, wrenching his knee painfully and blinking away tears of panic. He hated crying, always had, and always would. But now it seemed warranted._

_His way out was blocked. He couldn't escape the three drones that closed in on him from his desired direction. To get away from them, he'd have to backtrack and hope for another escape. His choices limited, he limped back the way he'd come. He found a small alley and ducked down it, hoping for a place to hide or pull himself up onto the roof of the building. Of course, he'd be just as trapped there as he was now. The alley was a dead end, reminding him of Glasgow's seedier neighborhoods. Before he could reverse his direction, he fell again._

_Despair settled. He couldn't get away. Not this time. Rolling onto his back in order to get up, to keep evading, to somehow stay alive until rescue arrived, he stared into the strange, snake-like eyes of his captor. Michael smiled, his animalistic teeth making it seem all the more fierce. "You disappoint me, Doctor."_

_A small, pistol-looking weapon rose, and his world disappeared in a flash of blue._

oOo

Carson Beckett jerked awake and let out a deep breath. His heart pounded, and he felt as if he'd just run a marathon. The dark room was unfamiliar, and the faint tick of a clock on the dresser interrupted the silence. Bright moonlight spilled through a window covered with lace curtains. It dappled on the foot of his bed, telling him that he'd once again awakened prematurely. Accustomed to the sudden change in awareness, he sat up and looked around.

Memory was slow in returning. But, as he ran a hand over his sweat-soaked face, he finally managed to recall what had happened. His dream had taken place just over three years ago. He wasn't being chased by Wraith drones, Michael had died, and he was a free man. Well, as free as he could be with the memories lurking in his mind, waiting for the moment he was most vulnerable to make their presence known. Moments like now.

Coming to Esperanza, New Mexico had been a total fluke. He'd been contacted by an elderly doctor who simply wanted to retire. Carson untangled his legs from the sheets on his bed and stood to walk to the washroom. He'd come for an interview, and he sincerely hoped he'd get the job.

The light in the washroom pierced his eyes, and he blinked to adjust his vision. Once the brightness faded, he took a look at himself in the mirror. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, and his face looked just as haggard now as it had when he'd been rescued. To this day, he still recalled the utter shock that crossed the faces of his rescuers. He'd been so hesitant to believe it was more than a hallucination that it had taken that first prick of a needle in his arm for him to wake up to reality. He'd been rescued after nearly two years in Michael's custody. That relief, while sweet, was short-lived as he realized that something was horribly wrong.

Not wanting to think about the days that followed his rescue, Carson slapped the light switch and returned to his room. He'd rented this suite at a local bed and breakfast, preferring to actually stay in the town he hoped to work in rather than driving for three hours one way just for a decent hotel. His hosts had been wonderful, and he'd eaten better last night than he had in a long time. Of course, he needed to work off that massive piece of pie his hostess had set in front of him, and he figured now was as good a time as any.

Pulling on sweats and sneakers, he shook his head. His knee had healed remarkably well considering the nearly two years that followed the injury. He still had times when it ached, primarily in extreme cold, but he had taken up running several months ago as a defense against the dreams. Against the memories. Glancing at his watch, he shook his head. It was three in the morning, and he knew he wouldn't sleep again until that night.

The tiny town of Esperanza still slept as he crept from the bed and breakfast and into its streets. He took a few moments on the large, wrap-around porch to stretch his muscles. The cool morning air invigorated him, and he grinned. Back home, in Scotland, it would still be somewhat chilly. Here, it was a beautiful seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit. His mind automatically transposed it into Celsius. Twenty-three-point-eight degrees. Perfect summer weather.

He took off down the stairs and jogged slowly down the winding drive. The bed and breakfast sat on a quiet street just off the main square. While it had uniquely Southwestern touches, Esperanza was one of those towns that looked unchanged from the 1950s. If snow had fallen, it would look exactly like a Currier and Ives print. The town square consisted of a large patch of grass with massive cottonwood trees that shaded the area. The two main roads of the town intersected around the square, resulting in a strange four-way stop that would take him some time to figure out. Storefront shops lined the corners, and the road changed to cobblestones for several blocks. He glanced around, noting the diner, tea and coffee house, grocery, bank, and doctor's office.

Carson ran past all of this, knowing he couldn't get lost in this town. No one came to Esperanza by accident. It was so far off the beaten path that one couldn't stumble upon it. In fact, he'd struggled to find the town, and he'd been coming here on purpose. Of course, he was also struggling to remember to drive on the right side of the road rather than the left.

As he ran, he thought about recent events. Atlantis had returned to Earth unexpectedly with him at the helm. While he was confident in his Ancient gene, he was still surprised that he'd managed to land a ship the size of Manhattan on the surface of the Pacific Ocean with little more than a few minor injuries in the process. Of course, their fight with the Wraith hive that had attacked Earth had resulted in more severe injuries, and he hadn't allowed himself a moment to relax before running to the infirmary and assisting Dr. Keller in patching up their people.

The months since January had passed in a haze of shock as the Atlantis Expedition adjusted to living on Earth. Carson had endured the necessary medical checks at the SGC, but his record appeared to be in good order. After all, he'd been on Earth for six months following his ordeal to recover and undergo psychological evaluations. He knew his nightmares were common and that they would take time to resolve. Hence why he'd chosen this new path in his life. With August nearing its end, he needed a change in pace.

The sun edged over distant hills as he returned to the bed and breakfast. He'd not run for the entire time he'd been out, choosing to stop at the edge of town and allow the absolute silence to overtake him. There was so little time on Atlantis for him to truly reflect, and the peace of this town seeped into his mind. Drawing a deep breath of the crisp summer air, he rushed upstairs to shower and shave. The slight scar just above his right eyebrow reminded him of his nightmare, but it now seemed distant, not a living entity in the room with him.

With a calm smile plastered on his face, he headed back downstairs to the dining area. He was the only guest at the bed and breakfast right now, and he greeted his host, a jovial man who looked vaguely like Santa Claus. In fact, his wife said the town children had nicknamed him that, and the entire town simply called him "Santa." She appeared in the door of the kitchen with plates filled with eggs, bacon, pancakes, and hash browns. Carson could have handled oatmeal and fruit, but he didn't want to be rude to his hosts.

"So," Santa began after they'd begun eating, "you're meeting with Doc Howell?"

"Aye," Carson said with a smile. "I hear he's retirin', an' I'd like the job."

Santa eyed him. "Well, I for one hope you get it. The last young pup we had in here was fresh from medical school and thought we should have everything the big city has. He ran as fast as he could. You're different."

Carson accepted that with a quiet chuckle. Of course he was different, but he wouldn't tell these people exactly _how_ different he truly was. "Well, I'm not lookin' for a big city. I quite like the town, an' I'm accustomed to this size of village."

Santa nodded encouragingly. "We need people like you around." He shook his head. "These young people these days think it's better in the city. They have _no_ idea of the world out there."

The man's wife put a hand on his arm. "Dear, I'm sure Dr. Beckett doesn't want to listen to one of your rants."

Santa gave his wife a mock glare, his eyes sparkling. "And how would you know?" He turned back to Carson. "What do you think?"

Carson glanced at Mrs. Claus, as he'd come to think of her, and shrugged. "I agree with you. It's a big world out there, and kids don't know the half of it."

"See?" Santa grinned triumphantly at his wife. "I knew he'd agree. Dr. Beckett, I think you'll fit in well here."

"Och, Carson, please." He shrugged. "My last posting was in a town about this size, maybe smaller." _And __on __an __alien __planet __in __a __totally __different __galaxy,_ he added wryly.

The breakfast conversation ebbed and flowed, primarily with Santa doing everything in his power to get a rise out of his wife. Carson watched the two of them fondly, thinking of the times his father would do the same thing to his mother. Once their plates were cleaned, Mrs. Claus rose and cleared the table, freeing Carson to do whatever he wished before his meeting with Dr. Brian Howell. He wandered into the library of the bed and breakfast, skimming the titles and deciding that he would rather read the medical journal he'd brought with him rather than any of the books here. He still had a lot of reading to catch up on in spite of the fact that he'd been on the cutting edge for years.

When his meeting time rolled around, Carson left the bed and breakfast and walked across town. He could have taken the car he'd rented for the occasion, but the town was so tiny that he didn't want to lose the feel. The temperature had soared to around one-hundred-degrees, and he was covered in a fine sheen of sweat by the time he arrived at the doctor's office. A bell on the door jingled as he walked inside, and a man in his late sixties, early seventies glanced up. "You Dr. Beckett?"

"Aye," Carson said. He extended his hand. "Dr. Howell?"

The man shook his hand. "Just 'Doc' or 'Doc Howell.'"

Carson grinned at that. He'd been called "Doc" for so many years that he felt like he'd fit right in with this bunch. Following the doctor from the tiny reception area back into his office, he looked around. Accustomed to Atlantis's infirmary, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake. This doctor's office had one examination room which served for anything. A pharmacy sat next to the doctor's office, and Howell informed him that the two businesses were connected. Given the nature of the small town, they filled all of their prescriptions as well. Carson was more than qualified for both jobs, and he simply nodded. At least he'd have something to keep him busy.

Howell's office was bare. Blank tan walls showed none of the pictures or diplomas or awards that Carson had expected. The large mahogany desk had a bit of paperwork on it, but it was mostly clear save for a desk calendar. Howell dropped into the plush office chair. "How do you feel about house calls, Dr. Beckett?"

"Och, 'Carson,' please." He felt as if he'd repeated himself. Then, he smiled. "Well, I'm not opposed to house calls. Though I've not had good experiences with them in the past." His mind went to a time when he'd stood in a jail cell, telling Colonel Sheppard that he needed to stop making house calls. It shook him to realize that, while he remembered it as if he were there, he had _not_ experienced it. Another Carson Beckett—the _original_ Carson Beckett—had said those words.

Howell didn't seem to notice his momentary lapse into memory. "You won't have anything to worry about here. This town is full of good people." He folded his hands on his desk and stared directly at Carson. "I like you, Carson. I've looked over your file, and I have to say I'm surprised to get someone of your caliber willing to come to Esperanza. But I have no qualms about leaving the health of this town in your hands."

Carson blinked. "With all due respect, Dr. Howell, you and I have never worked together in the past. How can you. . . ."

"You come highly recommended." Howell shuffled some papers on his desk. "One of the young women I watched grow up became acquainted with you, and she said you're the best. I'm taking her at her word."

"And the young lady?"

"Prefers to remain anonymous." Howell shrugged. "I didn't understand it, either, but I figure she has her reasons. But, if she recommends you, I know you're a good man. And, I'm hoping, the last man I have to interview for this job."

Carson floundered for just a moment. "You're offerin' me the position without ever askin' about my qualifications?"

"Graduated top of your class from the University of St. Andrews, published numerous papers and did extensive research into genetics, spent the last seven years of your life working with a classified military operation, and distinguished yourself as brilliant." Howell shrugged. "I don't need any more than that. Men like you, Carson, usually work in places like Johns Hopkins. Not in tiny villages in the middle of Nowhere, New Mexico."

"Well, for the record, I'm not like those men." Carson let out a deep breath. "An' I've had my share of high stress, fast-paced jobs. I want to get back to just bein' a doctor."

Howell stood and stuck out his hand. "Welcome to Esperanza, Dr. Beckett. I'm sure you'll fit in quite well around here."

Carson blinked again. He got the job? Slowly, he stood and shook Howell's hand. "You're certain?"

"Yes." Howell glanced at his watch. "Now, how about some lunch? I'm starving."

Carson followed the elderly doctor from the office and out the door. Howell launched into a monologue about the virtues of the two places to eat in town. There was Porter's Tea and Coffee House or the Esperanza Cafe. Both of them boasted a different variety of food, and Howell preferred the cafe. Carson accompanied him through the door, seeing the place filled with men in jeans and work boots. He'd not expected to get the job so quickly. But, now that Howell had confirmed it, he looked forward to getting down to the business of simply being a doctor.

As he sat down and looked over the menu, Carson smiled. Rodney would think he'd gone insane. But he refused to let the physicist bully him into anything. He was ready for the change in his life and for the shift in priorities.

~TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Returning to Atlantis was different. Carson remembered all the times he'd come into the city, and most of them had been through the Gate. This time, however, he knew he was leaving.

The familiar press of the city's Ancient systems in his mind was both comforting and disconcerting. They'd been that way since he'd been released from Michael's custody. The buzz that precipitated use of the systems had faded throughout the months, but he noticed it now more than ever. Michael's death had left his mind feeling somewhat empty, and the city filled that void. He hadn't realized how much of an impact it would make until he gained his quarters and let out a deep sigh.

He'd never been hired in such a fashion before. His jobs usually had layers of confidentiality, security checks, and classifications. Yes, he'd have doctor-patient confidentiality in Esperanza, but he wouldn't have to deal with the idea that he could never truly be honest with these people. Not about their healthcare, that is. His status as a clone would remain a closely guarded secret known only to his friends on Atlantis.

Since he'd been gone for several days, Carson headed for the infirmary to check in with Jennifer. The younger doctor's relationship with Rodney had blossomed in recent months, and Carson knew a wedding was on the horizon. He'd seen the way Rodney stared at Jennifer, and he loved how the physicist struggled to just ask Jennifer to marry him. It was something Carson would likely never experience for himself. Not that he'd closed himself off from human relationships, but he would never become involved with a woman who couldn't know _everything_ about him.

All was quiet in the infirmary, and Carson took a few hours to roam the city. He eventually found a balcony that looked at an impressive display of spires. He would miss this sight, though he was accustomed to leaving. Being back on Earth hadn't changed reality for him, and Carson was content with the idea that this was no longer his place. It likely never would be.

Using these few moments to gather his thoughts, he remembered the day he'd stood here just after coming out of the stasis pod. When he'd gone into that machine, he'd figured he wouldn't be coming out. He'd said his goodbyes to his friends, had written a letter to his mum, and closed down his life. He decided then that he'd never return to Scotland—at least, he'd never return _home_. According to the background the SGC had given him, he'd been born in Inverness. He was a Highlander. The cover gave him the option of actually visiting the nation of his birth even if he could never return to St. Andrews or Edinburgh.

Just thinking of those two places saddened him. Carson let out a deep breath and reigned in his emotions. He was always leaving. Always saying goodbye to those he loved. First, he'd said goodbye to his mum when he'd come to Atlantis. Then, he closed his eyes and shook his head, a wry smile crossing his face. _He_ hadn't said goodbye to his mum and come to Atlantis. The _other_ Carson had. He just remembered it.

And that highlighted why he had to leave. When Atlantis had been in Pegasus, it had been easy to forget that he wasn't the original Carson. He'd easily allowed the truth of his life as a clone to fade as he always had his friends that he could return to when he traveled to Atlantis. And he'd been needed several times. But, now, on Earth, he could not deny that he didn't know his place any longer.

"There you are." McKay sounded put out.

Carson turned to see his friend striding toward him, an eerily similar sight to what Rodney had done over a year ago when Carson had come out of the stasis pod. He looked back at the city. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Rodney blinked. "You said that a year ago."

"Aye, I suppose I did." Carson smiled at his friend. "It's no less true today."

"I. . .suppose so." Rodney jabbed a finger over his shoulder. "Listen, we're all meeting in the mess hall for dinner. Sheppard managed to get a grill delivered, and Lorne's taken over cooking. Wanna join us?"

Carson nodded. "Just give me a few more moments, Rodney."

"Hey, you okay?" McKay took a step forward. "You look. . . ."

Carson shrugged. "I'm fine, Rodney. Just thinking."

"Okay." McKay's tone said he didn't believe that for a moment. "Well, I'll see you there. Just don't take too long or Ronon will have eaten everything."

Carson watched his friend leave and knew he'd have to tell him. He'd have to tell all of them soon as he'd agreed to be in Esperanza by next week. He didn't want to ruin the celebratory atmosphere, but this might be the chance he needed. If he could manage to get up the courage to tell them.

Deciding that he couldn't just ignore things any longer, Carson walked from the balcony and made his way to the mess hall. The smell of a gas grill permeated everything, and Marines and scientists alike sat at tables, eating burgers and hot dogs. Carson followed the smell out onto the mess hall patio, where a huge grill smoked off to one side. Major Lorne had a spatula and was turning burgers as Colonel Sheppard gave him pointers. The major ignored his CO as he worked, and Carson chuckled at the sight. A table held all the condiments and chips and such, and laughter punctuated conversation. Carson arrived at the table as Rodney was trying to convince Jennifer that what Ronon had said wasn't true.

"Rodney, stop arguin'," Carson said as he approached the table.

"Stop arguing?" Rodney glared. "He's saying I fainted, and he wasn't even there!"

"Aye, ye did faint," Carson agreed with a smirk, though the knowledge that he was leaving soon tempered his normal good humor.

Jennifer patted Rodney's arm. "That's okay, you'll survive."

Rodney glowered at Carson for a moment. "Hey, you okay?" he asked again.

Carson sat at the table and smiled at all of them. "Oh, I don't know this is the time, Rodney."

Sheppard chose that moment to join them, leaving Lorne at the grill. "Time for what?"

Realizing he wouldn't get out of it, Carson let out a deep breath. "Well, I've been thinking for the last few months, and I've made a decision." He paused as he looked around, seeing the curious looks he received. "I'm leavin' Atlantis."

"_What?_" Rodney's reaction was the most severe and immediate. Teyla blinked several times, while Ronon just glared.

Sheppard straightened. "What's goin' on, Doc?"

Carson appreciated the quiet question. "I've just returned from an interview for a medical practice in Esperanza, New Mexico."

"Where?" Rodney asked, completely nonplussed. His face was completely blank, not something the team typically saw.

Carson grinned. "It's a tiny town in south-central New Mexico. Their elderly doctor is retirin', an' I'm takin' the position." He sobered. "I need ta do this. I need ta get back to just bein' a doctor."

Rodney frowned. "What do you think you've been doing for the past year?"

Carson gave him a longsuffering look. "I know you don't understand, Rodney. But I need ta do this. I need to get away, to figure out where I belong and. . . ."

"What do you mean, 'where you belong'?" Rodney interrupted. "You—you—you're _Carson_. You belong here."

"Do I?"

Sheppard sat forward. "Listen, Doc, I know you think. . . ."

"Yes, you do!" Rodney again interrupted and remained oblivious to the irritated look that Sheppard sent him. "Do you have _any_ idea what this place would be if you weren't here? I mean, look at everything you've done. You saved Jennifer when that Ancient device was turned on. You rescued us from the Wraith when we were captured. You saved Jennifer—again—when she mutated into a hive ship. You even saved _my_ life when I was hit with that ascension machine! I mean. . . ."

"Stop right there." This time, Carson did the interrupting. Rodney's rant had stirred up all the reasons why he'd chosen to take his leave of the city that had once given him meaning. "_I_ didn't do that. _He_ did."

Rodney blinked several times. "What?" he asked again.

Carson sighed. "Look, I know you see me as Carson Beckett, but. . . ."

"Because you _are_ Carson Beckett!" Rodney insisted.

Suddenly, Teyla sat forward and put a hand on McKay's arm. "Rodney." Her voice, though soft, had an edge of strength to it. When McKay turned to her, she smiled at Carson. "I believe I understand what Carson is trying to say. While he _is_ Carson, he isn't the Carson you knew."

Rodney turned to regard Carson with a surprised look. "You really think that?"

"Aye," Carson replied. "I may have his memories and his personality, but I don't remember the all the things you talk about. I never owned turtles. I may have read the reports, but that's not me. It's another, completely different person. And I need to find out who _this_ Carson Beckett is, independent of who _that_ Carson Beckett was. I'm sorry, Rodney. I know this is difficult for you to understand, but it's what I need to do for me."

Rodney stared at Carson, the realization dawning on his face leaving him speechless for once. Carson looked from person to person, watching the emotions cross their faces. Sheppard seemed irritated, but that was normal for the emotionally distant colonel. Ronon appeared accepting, while Jennifer had a sheepish expression on her face. None of them said anything.

Carson nodded. "I've already given my letter of resignation to Mr. Woolsey, an' I'll be leavin' in two days."

The celebratory atmosphere vanished in spite of the snippets of laughter that came from the mess hall and the smoke from Lorne's grilling. Carson's stomach turned, though, and he realized he wouldn't be eating anything tonight. He stood and, after another glance at the team, returned to his quarters for the remainder of the night.

oOo

The next two days passed quickly. Carson spent the time gathering his few belongings and preparing himself to leave Atlantis. It was more emotional than he'd expected or cared to admit. When he'd returned to Earth to recover from his time in the stasis pod, it was always with the understanding that he would be back in Pegasus after he regained his health. Then, he'd chosen to travel the Pegasus galaxy to treat the Hoffan plague survivors. This, however, was permanent. This was something he wasn't prepared to handle.

He knew he'd see these people again. They were his family now that he'd closed out his life in Scotland. In fact, plans were made for a team gathering at Halloween. Sheppard had decided that the team would come to Esperanza and enjoy New Mexico's sun as well as allow Ronon to pass out candy like he wanted. Carson hadn't thought much about living arrangements, but he now realized he'd need to have a good place for them to gather. The two months between now and then would pass quickly, so he made that a priority on his list.

Finally, the day arrived when he would leave the city for the last time. He'd taken the time to spend with his friends, knowing they were just as stunned now as they were the night he announced it. Rodney had tried multiple times to talk him out of this, but it had taken the physicist a good twenty-four hours to figure a work-around to Carson's problem. He could still remain in Atlantis, could work as a doctor, find his place there. Carson appreciated the thought, but he refused. Not only had he taken the job in Esperanza, but he was looking forward to getting back to a small town. While it wasn't the same as working in a remote village in Pegasus, it would help him find distance from everything that happened. Not having the threat of Wraith cullings hanging over his head would also help him gain his footing. He was just surprised it had taken him this long to feel all of these emotions.

Teyla was the first to bid him farewell. She brought Torren to Carson's quarters and smiled sadly as she watched him play with the baby. At one, Torren was learning to walk, and Carson enjoyed every step he took while holding on to his "uncle's" fingers. Crawling was much easier for the child, though, and Torren eventually got tired of the work and crawled across the room to chew on the strap of Carson's duffel bag. Finally, Carson hugged Teyla. "Thank you."

Teyla met his eyes. "You will find what you seek, Carson. I have no doubt."

"Aye," he agreed. "Take care o' this wee lad," he added as he hoisted Torren into the air. The child giggled at the sudden change in elevation.

Teyla accepted her son. "I will allow you to continue preparing." She touched his arm. "You will make an excellent town doctor, Carson. And I will see you in a month or so."

Carson waved as she left. Amanda Cole and Evan Lorne appeared next, hugging Carson tightly and wishing him well. Her voice choked, and he knew she had to be thinking about that horrible Sunday. He held her close for a moment and then shook Lorne's hand. Ronon showed up a short time later, surprised that Carson didn't have more stuff to carry to the gate. The Satedan struggled through a goodbye, finally settling with a gruff parting comment. Carson wasn't offended, and he understood. When he'd gone into the stasis pod, Ronon had reacted with a heartfelt "This is what I was afraid of." To Ronon, he'd just lost a friend. Still, just before disappearing, Ronon turned and grabbed Carson in a bone-crushing hug that left the doctor struggling to breathe.

When no one arrived for another twenty minutes, Carson finally felt able to head to the infirmary. He found Jennifer in her office and hugged her tightly. He'd followed her career since she was in medical school, and he was thrilled to see her so happy. When she stepped back to the desk for a Kleenex, he smiled. "Take care of Rodney for me."

Jennifer's face flushed. "I will."

Carson touched her arm and left her office. He would have left the infirmary altogether, but he spotted Marie staring at him with tears in her eyes. Moving to the nurse who had been working there since the Expedition arrived in Pegasus the first time, Carson enveloped her in a hug and simply allowed her to cry. Her tears dampened his shirt, and he smoothed down her hair.

When she pulled back, she laughed. "I'm sorry, Carson."

"Och, don't be, love." He took her by her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I'll be back, you know."

"_Don't_ say that to me!" Marie's insistence surprised him. When he blinked, she met his eyes. "The last time you said that, you never came back!"

It took him a moment to realize that she was referring to that Sunday again. Had it been Rodney or Teyla, he would have made a wry quip about not having to remove too many explosive tumors. They seemed to have that kind of relationship. But this was too emotional. Marie struggled with the memories. Carson nodded. "Okay. Then, I plan to see you again. In fact, why don't you plan on comin' with Colonel Sheppard and the others when they come to visit in October?" He shrugged. "I'll let Jennifer know I've invited ye."

Marie smiled. "That sounds lovely, Carson."

"Good." He shared another warm hug with her before leaving the infirmary. If he was honest, the emotion tugged at his own heartstrings. He'd always been more emotional than anyone in his family, and his own history often caught him unawares. This was worse, though, because he had no memory of the incident that had shattered the lives of his friends. When _their_ Carson had died, he'd been working to develop the serum that turned humans into hybrids.

Shaking away those memories, Carson met Colonel Sheppard, Rodney, Ronon, Teyla, and Mr. Woolsey in the gateroom. Sheppard stepped forward and shook his hand. "You're sure you don't want a lift to Esperanza? I could have you there inside of an hour."

"No, Colonel." Carson smiled. "Doc Howell is expectin' me at the Albuquerque airport, so I don't need ta disappoint."

"Right." Sheppard nodded. "Well, take care of yourself."

"Aye, an' you, too." Carson slapped the man's shoulder and turned to the person next to him. "Mr. Woolsey."

"Doctor." Woolsey reached out to shake his hand. "Just so you're aware. I know you view this as permanent, but I've filed the paperwork as an extended leave of absence. If you ever decide to return to Atlantis, there's a place for you here."

Carson nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Woolsey."

"Richard, please." Woolsey shrugged. "If you're no longer working here, there's no need for the formality."

Carson smiled at the gesture and touched Teyla's shoulder as he headed for the center of the gateroom. The _Apollo_ had finally returned to Earth and orbited the planet, still undergoing a complete overhaul after her nearly disastrous battle with the Wraith hive. Her transporter systems had been repaired, and she acted as a "taxi cab" for Atlantis personnel. Carson would beam into a secure facility near LAX.

Rodney stopped next to him. "Carson." He held out his hand. "Take care of yourself."

Carson shook Rodney's hand. "Aye. You, too." He met the physicist's eyes. "This isn't goodbye, Rodney."

"Yeah, I know," Rodney said less-than-convincingly. "Just. . . ."

"I know." Carson stepped away from him. "Take care of Jennifer."

Rodney nodded. "Of course."

Carson looked around, taking a moment to absorb his final impressions of Atlantis. The stained glass glowed with the sunlight, the Stargate fairly glittered, and every eye in the place was focused on him. Knowing Atlantis's procedures, he knew that the other Carson's funeral had happened right where he now stood. He couldn't help but recognize the irony in all of it. He now said goodbye to his friends in the exact same spot.

After a deep breath, he nodded to Chuck, who contacted the _Apollo_. Atlantis, his friends, and his old life disappeared in a wash of white light.

~TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Carson arrived in Albuquerque five hours after leaving Atlantis. As promised, Dr. Howell waited for him near baggage claims. Carson waved off the man's offer to carry anything, hoisting his duffel bag over his shoulder and not admitting that it was all he owned. He planned to purchase new clothing soon, though his civilian clothes from Atlantis and his six months on Earth worked just fine. He'd arranged for all of his mail—including medical journals and the like—to be sent to the doctor's office in Esperanza.

As they drove, Howell filled him in on the history of Esperanza. The town was supported by two large ranches that wanted somewhere closer to get things like groceries and gasoline than a town two hours away. Even then, it was a thirty minute drive from the ranches. Carson listened as he absorbed the New Mexico landscape. It was desolate, dry, and completely opposite of his native Scotland. But the peace in the openness was undeniable, and he hoped he'd find the purpose he craved. With Atlantis stuck on Earth for the foreseeable future, his mission of helping those ravaged by Michael's Hoffan plague had ended. He needed to adjust to his new reality.

Carson's arrival in Esperanza was quiet and just as he'd like. He took a room at the bed and breakfast again, knowing that he'd only be there until he made other living arrangements. After his return to the land of the living, the SGC had arranged for his wages to be reinstated. As he'd been either living at the SGC for his six months on Earth or in Pegasus and Atlantis for the remainder of it, he had a nice chunk sitting in a savings account, earning interest. It should be enough to keep him afloat for a time.

Doc Howell met him the next day at the office. The front was bare, white, and impersonal. Carson looked around, realizing that he could make changes when the elderly doctor left. After working in Atlantis, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle these bare white or tan walls. Planning a trip to the hardware store became a priority. For now, he simply stepped around the unmanned counter and into Howell's office. He found the elderly doctor loading books into a box. "Dr. Howell?"

The man turned. "Carson." They shook hands. "I hope you don't mind me packing up a few personal things?"

"Och, not at all."

Howell grinned. "Well, with that accent, you'll be turnin' the heads of all the young women in this town within a day."

Carson flushed at that. "That's not why I came," he said. "I just want ta be a doctor."

Howell waved a hand. "I know. But I also know how this town operates." He straightened. "Now, I know you're lookin' for a place to live. I heard that Mrs. Porter over at the coffee house has a house to rent. I can cover the office for a time."

"Thanks." Carson touched the man's shoulder as he took a slower walk through the medical office. He'd spent so much time in Atlantis's infirmary and in primitive villages that he was unprepared for this place. Much of the equipment was outdated, but he knew he'd have to overcome that. It was hard to imagine not having an Ancient scanner at his fingertips, but he'd get accustomed to it. Even when he'd been traveling Pegasus, he'd been able to whip out the technology and use it. Here, however, he had no chance of that happening. Not with the Stargate Program remaining highly classified.

Leaving the building, Carson walked the two blocks over to Porter's Tea and Coffee House. The temperature had soared to just over one-hundred degrees again, and he sent a glance to the brilliant blue sky as he wondered if this town ever got rain. The tea house sat just off the strange square of the town, and he walked inside and relished the cool air conditioning.

The walls glowed a warm honey-gold that immediately put Carson at ease. The bell over the door jingled merrily, and the wonderful scent of fresh coffee overwhelmed him. A glass case held a variety of donuts, muffins, croissants, a cheesecake, and several perfectly shaped loaves of bread. The smell of yeast mingled with the aroma of the coffee as he approached the counter. Several women sat at a table to the side, but it looked as if the morning rush had ended. The women eyed him suspiciously, but he took comfort in the wedding bands on their left hands. At least they wouldn't be part of his "fan club" as Howell had indicated he'd eventually develop.

A plump woman in her late fifties appeared from the kitchen area, wiping her hands on a white towel. "Can I help you?" The curiosity in her face was obvious, and Carson was again reminded of how remote the town really was. New faces weren't common around here.

"Aye," he said, drawing glances from the women trying to appear like they weren't watching. "I was told to ask for Mrs. Porter."

The woman's lips turned up in a smile, giving Carson a strange sense of _dej__á__vu._ He felt as if he'd seen that smile before, and her blue eyes were familiar. "I'm Margaret Porter." She walked stuck out a hand. "You must be Doc Beckett. Doc Howell told me about you a day or two ago, making sure to mention that you're Scottish."

Carson chuckled as he shook her hand with a strong grip of his own. "That's me," he said. He heard whispers behind him and ignored them.

Mrs. Porter glanced at them disapprovingly and then turned back to Carson. "What'll it be? On the house."

Carson turned his attention to the menu and ordered a large coffee. As she reached for a sturdy insulated plastic cup, he met her eyes. "I was told ye had a house for rent."

"I do." She poured his coffee. "Are you interested?"

"Yes."

"Good." She handed the cup to him and added the lid. "You bring that cup back, and you'll get free refills all day long."

Carson held it up. "Thank you."

She glanced at her watch. "I have a young girl come in around two-thirty in the afternoon, so I can meet you then. I'll take you over to the place and show you around."

Carson noted the time and realized he had five hours to kill. "That would work." He lowered his voice. "And where would I find the hardware store?" he asked conspiratorially. A wink told Mrs. Porter that he wanted to tease the women still trying to look like they weren't staring.

She leaned forward and whispered, "Out the door, to the left. Two doors down. Tell Bobby I sent you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Porter." Carson moved to the left side of the shop, adding several packets of sugar and some half-and-half to his coffee. After stirring it, he left the coffee house and followed Mrs. Porter's directions. The hardware store appeared just as promised, and Carson felt immensely more comfortable when he pushed through the door. One other customer stood at the counter, and a man with "Bobby" prominently displayed on his name badge simply glanced up. Carson waited his turn, sipping his coffee and finding it a touch strong for his tastes but excellent anyway.

Bobby finally finished with his first customer and turned. "Can I help ya?"

"I'm looking for paint."

Bobby moved out from behind the counter and held out a hand. "You're new to town?"

"Aye, just arrived." Carson grinned as he shook the man's hand. "Gettin' settled and plannin' ta paint the doctor's office after Dr. Howell retires."

Bobby laughed. "Yeah, he always liked those blank walls." Motioning, he headed down an aisle. "We don't have much, but we can mix colors. Everything's back here. And we sell samples, too."

"Great." Carson spent some time looking over the colors and kept coming back to a warm rust-brown. He knew it had something to do with his time in Atlantis, but the familiarity would be a nice touch. Purchasing a sample of it, plus some blue for his office, he headed back to the medical office. Howell had slipped next door to the pharmacy, and Carson took the chance to look over that small business. It was completely different from anything he'd known for the last few years, but he loved the laid-back feel of the town.

At two-thirty, he walked back to the coffee house, this time carrying a bottle of water he'd grabbed from the pharmacy. Howell also kept a few health food supplies such as Slim Fast in the pharmacy, and Carson had helped himself to the cold drinks. Mrs. Porter met him in the empty dining room of her shop and motioned out the back door. "The house is on the other side of town. Since I know you walked over here, I'll drive."

Carson breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't mind walking, but this heat was oppressive. Mrs. Porter drove an old Cadillac that rocked when she came to a stop. The air conditioner worked, though, and she didn't chatter the entire way to the house. Carson asked about rent and was surprised at the low price, especially when she told him it would include all utilities. She waved aside his concern, saying she wanted to help him out since the town couldn't pay the doctor much. She pulled to a stop in front of a bungalow with a small stoop. The house had a carport on the right side and a massive plate glass window on the left side of the door. The yard was modest and green, a surprising feature given the dryness of the climate.

Mrs. Porter unlocked the front door and ushered Carson inside. He slipped past her and looked around, smelling the musty scent of a home not opened in a while. The house was old, and Carson smiled. He stood next to a wall that stretched down a hallway. The living room opened to his right, its tan carpet broken by the old ceramic tile in front of the door and around a corner fireplace. Furniture had been draped with plastic sheeting, but he easily identified a couch, easy chair, coffee table, and end tables. Behind the couch, a peninsula with cabinets above it separated the kitchen from the living room. The huge plate glass windows in the front of the house poured light into the area while a sliding glass door brightened the kitchen.

Carson walked to those doors and looked outside. They were crowded by a dining table, and the patio opened onto a modest back yard. Or side yard, as the case was. The kitchen sink sat directly across from the doors, and hooks for wine glasses had been added under the cabinets. A stove and fridge were opposite the kitchen peninsula, leaving the counter top empty. It was small but functional.

A tiny laundry room was tucked behind the kitchen, the gas hook-ups for the stove also serving for the dryer. Down the hallway, Carson first glanced into the smaller of the two bedrooms, which bordered the carport outside. It would make a nice study, and he made plans to find a good desk and some bookshelves. Directly across the hall, the small washroom boasted cream-colored tile halfway up the walls, light tan paint, and an old-fashioned radiator heater. A high frosted window looked onto the side yard, and the bathtub was cast iron overlaid with porcelain. A pedestal sink and chrome-rimmed medicine cabinet completed the room.

At the back of the house, the large bedroom surprised Carson. It stretched the full width of the house, easily hosting the king-sized iron-framed bed. Carson stared, not entirely sure he knew how to handle a bed that big. Not after the tiny beds on Atlantis and the pallets on floors as he'd traveled Pegasus. The iron headboard and foot board put him in mind of Hoff and Perna, and he smiled. It was actually a perfect accent to the rest of the house. A large closet, dresser, chest of drawers, bedside tables, and second glass door completed the bedroom. Carson glanced outside again, surprised that the side yard curved around the house to form a back yard. A six-foot cinder block fence provided privacy from the neighbors.

Returning to the living room, he found Mrs. Porter waiting anxiously. "It's charming," he said warmly. "How would you feel if I moved the furniture from the second bedroom to make an office?"

Her face lit as she smiled at him, and her blue eyes seemed familiar somehow. "I can make room in my storage shed. Just give me a few days."

"Och, it'll be at least a week before I can find the desk and bookshelves." Carson smiled at her. "When would I be able to move in?"

"Let's head back to the coffeehouse, and I'll get the contract ready." Mrs. Porter's eyes sparkled. "Then, you can have the keys today. I'll have utilities hooked up tomorrow."

"Sounds wonderful." Carson gave the charming, vintage house another glance as she locked the door behind him. The peaceful neighborhood, complete with a young lad running home from school, was straight out of the 1950s. He took a deep breath and let it out. He had a feeling he'd like it here.

oOo

The following afternoon, Carson received a call from Mrs. Porter that everything was ready at the house. He arrived at his new home to see lights glowing from the front window. Walking to the door, he found it unlocked and Mrs. Porter pulling a casserole from the oven. The spicy aroma teased his appetite, and he laughed as he walked over to the kitchen. "Och, ye dinnae need ta do all this!"

She gave him a pointed glance as she set the casserole on the stove to cool. "It's our way to welcome people to Esperanza, especially since Doc Howell's been trying to retire for three years."

Carson accepted that and looked around. The furniture had been uncovered, adding bright spots of color to the otherwise bland room. No pictures hung on the walls, but two table lamps glowed on either side of the couch. Throw pillows and a crocheted afghan adorned the couch, and the easy chair had been positioned to comfortably see the small television and stand she'd added to the living room. He suddenly wanted to explore the house for other touches but wouldn't be so rude. Meeting her eyes, he nodded. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

She smiled. "You're welcome, Doc."

"Just 'Carson.'" He looked around. "You'll spoil me if you're not careful, Mrs. Porter."

"Just 'Margaret.'" She grinned. "And good. You look like you need someone takin' care of you. And, while you may be a few years older than my daughter, I don't mind taking that place."

Carson blinked at her blunt words. He'd been adopted? "Well, in that case, would ye join me for dinner?"

"Thought you'd never ask," she said.

"Cheeky," Carson muttered just loud enough for her to hear as he carried his duffel bag to the rear bedroom. He was unable to stop the chuckle, however, when he saw the Braided Diamond quilt draped over his bed. The blues contrasted perfectly with the lace-edged white pillow shams. Small lamps adorned the bedside tables, as well, and he made a mental note to get the woman something as a thank-you gift for taking such good care of him.

Returning to the kitchen, he found Margaret placing two servings of the casserole on the table next to glasses of iced tea, silverware, and napkins. The dishes were real, and he spotted wine glasses hanging from beneath the cabinets. He revised his plans for a thank-you gift to a thank-you-very-much gift. He just wished he knew what the woman really liked.

Margaret settled across from him at the table and bowed her head to pray softly. Carson waited while she finished and picked up his fork to eat only after she had. The food was excellent, the southwestern spices toned down considerably but still delicious. He complimented the cook and loved how she waved him off. As they ate, Carson asked her about her coffee house, and she shared how she and her husband had opened it while their daughter was in college. Her husband had passed several years ago, and her daughter now worked somewhere in Colorado. She asked him about his family but looked a bit sheepish when he told her that he had none. And it was technically true. While his mum and siblings still lived, he'd decided to leave them to their lives. They'd buried him, grieved for him, and returning would stir up emotions he wasn't ready to handle. Not to mention the inevitable questions of whom they'd buried in his stead. No, it was simpler and infinitely more heartbreaking this way.

After Margaret left for the evening, Carson took a few moments to wander his home. He absorbed the silence, enjoying the idea that he had all this space to call his own. He'd brought a laptop with him, and he settled in the easy chair to connect to the internet and email Rodney. His friends on Atlantis would want an address, and he intended to give them more than that. Seeing that he had several emails from Rodney already in his inbox, he read them before replying. Then, he slipped into the shower and prepared for bed.

oOo

_He'd been moved. He groaned as he opened his eyes, feeling the sting of the cuts still healing on his face. His head ached, though not from falling over that piece of rubble. He had his knee to do that for him. And his vision was blurry._

_Taking a few moments to sit up, he rubbed his eyes and took stock of his surroundings. Another cell. Why hadn't his friends come for him? He'd been a prisoner for two weeks, based on what he could tell. Of course, that didn't count the amount of time between the planet and when he'd awakened. They should have found him by then._

_The absolute silence bothered him. He was accustomed to sound: beeps, whirs, and other signals of his trade. This absolute silence with a draft blowing in the window unnerved him more than anything. He shivered and tried to ignore the pain that sliced through his knee. He'd be dragged back to work in no time, and he wanted to allow the joint to heal._

_When no one came for him that day, he drifted to sleep as he held back tears._

Carson woke alone, in a massive bed, and trying to shake the residual loneliness. He blinked at the ceiling and sat up. Walking into the washroom, he splashed cold water on his face and heard the house's swamp cooler kick on. The cool air felt wonderful, and he wandered into the living room.

It wasn't even one in the morning. There was no way he could justify a morning run at this hour. Instead, he switched on a lamp and picked up the medical journal he'd brought with him. It had kept him company on the plane, pushing away the conversation of the woman next to him even though he didn't read. Tonight, he allowed his mind to be drawn into the world of genetics, the one thing that had led to his greatest nightmare.

Michael was dead. He reminded himself of that fact even though the emptiness in his mind confirmed it with every passing day. He'd thought he'd become accustomed to it, but he'd always had some sort of chaos hanging over his head. Epidemic clinics, Hoffan plague survivors, or threat of Wraith attack kept him from thinking about it. Here, in Esperanza, he couldn't begin to push it away. Scrubbing a hand over his face and feeling the beginnings of a beard, Carson shook his head. For just a moment, he began to doubt his decision to leave Atlantis.

The sun rose that morning with him having gotten three hours of sleep for the night.

~TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The next week passed quietly as Carson settled into life in Esperanza. He went to work each day after a stop at the coffee house for free coffee. And he settled on choosing paint colors until after Howell had made his final departure. The elderly doctor was a bit set in his ways, and Carson refused to upset him.

He met Jorge, the male nurse Howell had employed for the last six months. Carson spent some time with the other man and found him to be impeccably trained and completely capable. He'd become accustomed to working with both male and female nurses on Atlantis, and Jorge's broad size was actually in direct contrast to his apparently gentle nature. The Hispanic man was newly married with a baby, but Carson identified with him.

In addition to meeting Jorge, Carson also smiled every time he saw Margaret. His landlady had kept her word, making sure he had a good breakfast to start his day. That "good breakfast" usually consisted of whatever Danish or pastry was fresh from the oven in the coffee house, but Carson couldn't complain. He'd discovered that she'd stocked his fridge with a few things the day he'd moved into the house, and it took a week for him to get through those groceries.

Howell's departure into retirement was accompanied with huge fanfare from the community. The entire town showed up to that central square for a party that consisted of too much beer, not enough decent food, and a variety of emotions. Carson sat back and watched each of the town's citizens say goodbye to their beloved doctor, suddenly realizing what he'd asked his friends on Atlantis to do. This time, however, it was different. He was still alive. He didn't want to think about how they'd reacted when the other Carson had died. Given the emotionally charged atmosphere of the picnic, it wasn't a pleasant thought.

A woman in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, sidled up to Carson as he watched Margaret and Howell laugh over the potato salad. He eyed her, seeing the overly-processed red hair, heavy makeup, and low-cut blouse. She held a can of beer, and Carson waited for her to finally speak as he grew more and more awkward with her presence. It had nothing to do with anything she'd done, but he wasn't accustomed to women just standing closely to him without saying a word.

Finally she glanced at him and smiled, a pretty smile in spite of her attempt to cover it with makeup. "You're the new doc?"

"Aye." Carson gave her a polite smile and held out his hand. "Carson Beckett."

"Katie Summers." She grinned, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you." She turned back to Howell. "I can't believe he's leaving."

"Oh, I can." Carson shook his head. "There are times when all doctors wish to just leave everything behind."

Katie looked him up and down. "I can't imagine that about you."

Carson chuckled. "Well, I'll let ye in on a secret." He leaned slightly closer to her, allowing his voice to drop conspiratorially. "I'm here for the same reason he's leavin'."

Katie chuckled and didn't say anything else. Not that Carson needed her to. He'd seen the predatory glint in her eye and suddenly had the urge to run. Howell rescued him by drawing him into a conversation with Doug Engleside, one of the ranch owners who helped keep the town afloat. Carson spent the next hour telling the older man the sanitized version of his history and apparently charming the socks off of the man's wife. By the time he looked around, Katie had disappeared.

The day after the farewell picnic, Carson headed to the grocery store. Once inside, he stopped and stared. He hoped it passed for surprise at how few items there were rather than the truth. In reality, he was shocked. While in Pegasus, he'd become accustomed to either having his food delivered via the _Daedalus_ or _Apollo_ or trading in the market. Here, in this tiny town, he saw more variety than he'd ever enjoyed in Pegasus. As he strolled the aisles, he tried to figure out what he would really eat and what he wanted to purchase just for the sheer joy of buying it. As it was, a variety of sweets found their way into his buggy, and he made sure to thin that out before going to the register. No need to give the store clerk the idea that he overindulged, especially since the cover for his serum was that he was an insulin-dependent diabetic.

That night, he put the groceries away and stared at his home. He liked it here, in spite of the remoteness. It was calming. He'd only had one nightmare since coming, and that could be attributed to the new house. Still, he couldn't help but stop the emptiness that had plagued him for months. His life was full, he now owned his own private practice, and he'd succeeded in carving out a life for himself that was totally unrelated to the SGC. So, why did he feel so alone?

oOo

The waiting room of the doctor's office smelled of paint, and Carson felt his shoulders burn as he used a roller to apply a second coat to the walls. This building had been remodeled in recent years, creating a modern, southwestern feel in spite of the white walls. With Howell officially retired, Carson was free to change anything he wanted. He'd already traveled to Albuquerque once, returning with a vehicle laden with flower arrangements, lamps, several pictures for the walls, and other small touches. He'd received a strange look when he purchased the items, but a quick comment about a new office kept any questions away. Now, all of the items waited in a storeroom while he and Jorge took advantage of the quiet to change the feel of the entire place.

He'd just finished adding the second coat of reddish-brown paint to the wall in front of the receptionist's desk when the door opened. Carson turned, knowing he looked quite ragged at the moment. He had no doubt that his hair was dotted with red paint, and he saw various smudges on his jeans and black t-shirt-a hold-over from his time in Atlantis.

Katie stopped just inside the door. Today, she wore snug jeans, enough to draw attention but not so tight as to be inappropriate, a ruffled blouse, and much lighter makeup than the day at the picnic. Her frizzed hair was drawn up into a bun at the crown of her head. She blinked as she looked around and nodded. "I like it."

Carson smiled at that. "Good." He set the paint roller into the tray and pulled the rag from his back pocket to wipe his hands. "Can I help ye?"

She didn't look at him, choosing to carefully walk around the receptionist's desk and absorb the changes a simple paint color had made. "I was coming for work."

Carson blinked. "I'm sorry. Work?"

"Yeah." She turned and faced him. "I worked once a week in the pharmacy for Doc Howell. He'd talked about making me his receptionist, but he sold the practice to you instead. I just figured. . . ." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I should have mentioned this before."

"No, no." Carson held up a hand to stop her words. "It's quite alright, love. I'm still findin' my place here, and I should have asked about the pharmacy."

Katie glanced at the door connecting the office with the pharmacy. "How have things been over there?"

"Come ta think of it, quite busy." Carson motioned to where Jorge appeared from the back of the office, speckled with blue paint. "Jorge's been helpin', though we're drawin' a few strange glances bein' paint-covered."

Katie smirked. "I'm sure people here are used to it." She shrugged. "I don't know where you're from, Doc, but we're all working class around here." She turned before he could correct her assumption that he'd been talking down to her. "How about I go next door and cover there, leaving you boys to get this place ready for business?"

In the background, Jorge rolled his eyes at Carson, but Carson nodded with a smile. "Alright." He stopped her with a raised hand. "Just. . . .Would ye bring me a resume tomorrow? It's not that I don't trust ye, but I'd like ta know your qualifications. Especially if you're wantin' the job of receptionist."

Katie accepted that with a nod. "I'll drop it off." She waved with a flutter of her fingers and disappeared. Carson let out a soft breath of relief when she disappeared.

Jorge, who caught the expression on his face, leaned forward and whispered, "She's a handful, Doc."

"Aye, I've noticed." Carson turned around. "Right. Now let's finish this room."

oOo

Katie stepped into the familiar surroundings of the pharmacy and stowed her purse behind the counter. It was quiet now, with a note instructing people to ask next door for assistance. She removed it, smiling at Dr. Beckett's business-like scrawl, and pulled her book from her bag. She opened it and adopted a pose of indifference as she pretended to read.

Carson Beckett was. . . .She grinned at the page. She'd never known a Scot before, but he definitely made her want to consider visiting Scotland. That accent was just divine, and his eyes sparkled at her even when he didn't smile. There was an air of mystery about him, especially since he kept himself so closed from everyone else. And, when he smiled, it brought out a dimple in his face that sent her pulse skyrocketing. She'd never felt that way about any man before and wondered if she'd be able to continue working here. If she did, she suspected she'd fall for the good doctor.

_Which __might __not __be __a __bad __thing_, she reminded herself. She'd dressed this way on purpose, and she'd seen the way he'd given her an appreciative once-over when she arrived. If she managed to convince him that she was the right woman for him, it would make her work that much easier.

Setting aside the book, Katie stood and began straightening items on the shelves. Not that there was much to straighten. The place was neater than it had been in a long time, a testament to a doctor being in town who wasn't worn out by years of service.

The door opened, and her first customer of the day walked through. Moving behind the counter, Katie took the woman's money, passed over the medications, and slipped the bills into her purse. She needed to be careful now, with Carson here. At least, just until she convinced him to join her.

oOo

Jorge stalked back to the office with more blue paint. When given the opportunity to use blue or reddish-brown paint, he'd chosen the masculine color. Not that the red color looked horrible. Dr. Beckett had chosen his colors well, and he seemed perfectly content with handling the much larger reception area of the doctor's office. He'd chosen a tamer shade of brown, still better than the blasé color that Howell had preferred, for the patient room and hallways.

No, his problem wasn't with painting the office. His problem was with Katie Summers. That woman could be serious problems for the doc. Of course, Beckett didn't know this, and Jorge wondered just how much to tell the man. Not that he could tell Beckett much of anything without creating issues with his superiors. Katie Summers had been a persistent irritation to him for the last six months, and he didn't want to create even more problems. Beckett was just beginning to settle into town.

Adding more blue paint to his roller, Jorge decided to wait and see how things went. He'd give Beckett a month or two to find his place in this town. Then, if things went the way he suspected they would, he'd arrange a meeting. Beckett could be a great help to him and his work.

Content with his decision, Jorge finished painting the doctor's office.

oOo

That evening, Carson collapsed into his easy chair with an exhausted sigh. Tea was brewing on the counter, and he needed to cook something to eat. But, right now, he was too exhausted to move.

The reception area of the medical office was freshly painted and looked fantastic. The reddish-brown put him in mind of Atlantis without becoming maudlin or sentimental. He had several flower arrangements and some lamps and pictures to hang tomorrow, as well as the hallway and patient room to paint. But he no longer cringed when he walked into a blank white space. It was welcoming now, not institutional.

A knock on the front door pulled his head from the back of the easy chair. Pushing to his feet, Carson trudged over and opened it. Margaret Porter stood there, a covered casserole in hand as she surveyed the rest of the neighborhood. The summer sun still had not set, and children played down the way. Carson smiled and let her into his home, not surprised when she walked directly into the kitchen. It was only the second time since he'd moved in that she'd come, but he knew she needed someone to mother since her only daughter lived out of state.

She eyed the teapot. "Please tell me you intended to eat something other than just tea."

"Of course." Carson smiled at the woman. "I just hadn't had a chance ta do much."

She gave him a pointed glance. "Carson, I realize you're your own man, but you need to take care of yourself."

He joined her in the kitchen and took her by her shoulders. "Margaret, I promise you," he said sincerely, "that I'm takin' care o' myself. I just hadn't decided what I felt like cookin' tonight."

She sighed. "I'm sorry."

"What is it?"

"I got a call from my daughter." Margaret shook her head. "She was supposed to come home for Halloween, but she's not going to be able to make it until Thanksgiving."

Carson's heart went out to the woman, and he pulled her into his arms for a hug. In spite of his short time here, he loved Margaret as much as his own mum. She patted his back as he released her. "Thanks, Carson."

"Don't mention it." He reached for plates and silverware as she served the cornbread casserole. They shared the meal in quiet companionship, and then he warmed the tea on the counter for their dessert.

As she settled into the couch, Margaret eyed him. "Have you started seeing anyone?"

Carson choked on his tea. "What?"

She grinned at him. "You heard me." She took a sip of the tea and shrugged. "You're a single man, alone and could use a woman around. Other than me. And I happen to know you've turned heads in town."

"I dinnae come here to 'turn heads.'" Carson couldn't believe he was having this conversation with her. "An' no. I'm not seein' anyone, an' I likely won't while I'm here."

"I could introduce you to my daughter when she comes," Margaret suggested with a hopeful tone in her voice. "She'll be here for a month provided her job doesn't pull her away."

"What does she do?"

"She's got two degrees, actually." Margaret nodded at him, again giving him a sense of deja vu. "Biology and Engineering, with a minor in Applied Sciences."

Carson blinked. He'd met people with degrees like that. They always tended to be very knowledgeable but somewhat awkward in the real world. "She sounds like an incredible young lady."

"Oh, she is." Margaret eyed him. "So. . .?"

"No." Carson rose and took her empty teacup. "Margaret, I'll be happy ta meet your daughter and get to know her. But I dinnae come here to start a relationship."

"But if anything happens?" she asked hopefully.

Carson sighed and gave her an indulgent smile. "If it happens, then it does. Other than that. . . ."

"I got it." Margaret stood. "I should let you relax." She collected up the casserole dish she'd brought over after Carson had insisted on cleaning the kitchen. "Remember to come find me if you need anything."

"I will." Carson walked her to the door and watched her drive away. Shaking his head, he absorbed the quiet of the neighborhood. The sun had started to set, turning everything an incredible red color. Summer was in full swing, and he loved the absolute peace.

A small squeak brought him out of his thoughts. He frowned and glanced around, surprised when a small kitten toddled over to his porch. Stepping outside to sit on the front stoop, he held out his hand. He remembered being quite allergic to cats, but this poor mite reminded him of himself. The kitten moved to his hand and rubbed it, closing her eyes when he gently petted her. Before he realized what he'd done, he'd picked her up and cuddled her close. She was scrawny, her ribs showing through her mangy white coat. Within seconds, she'd purred herself to sleep in his hands.

Carson blinked. The last time he'd been around a cat, he'd had watery eyes and hives within five minutes. Yet he'd handled this one for the last ten minutes, and he had yet to respond with an allergic reaction. Figuring it must have been something Michael "corrected" during the cloning process, Carson pushed to his feet.

"Let's get ye inside and fed, lass," he said softly. The kitten blinked up at him, not appearing to want to move. "Don't get used to it. I'll see if I can find your home tomorrow."

She dropped her head back into his hand and huffed, drawing a smile. Carson set her down and pulled out a can of tuna—the only thing close to cat food in the house—and poured a small bowl of milk to warm. He couldn't quite judge her age, but he knew she'd not eat as much of the tuna as she would of the milk. Once she'd satisfied her hunger and sat back to lick her paws, he took stock of his physical situation.

It felt strange to remember being allergic to cats and not have an allergic reaction. It was just another portion of his odd life as a clone. More exhausted than he'd been since coming to Esperanza, Carson found some old newspapers to spread on the floor of his bedroom and retired as the final light of the sun faded from the sky. He woke the next morning with the newspapers used and the kitten curled into a tight ball on his chest.

~TBC


	5. Chapter 5

True to his plans, Carson spent the following afternoon scouring the neighborhood for the kitten's owner. When no one claimed her, he took her to the town vet in order to see to her health. She was undernourished, he knew, but he also wasn't sure he wanted his feet attacked each morning like they had been that day. The vet promised to care for her and find a home for the kitten, being as soft-hearted as Carson.

The next month passed in relative quiet. Carson angered a few of Esperanza's long-time residents by insisting on appointments before renewing their prescriptions. He explained that he'd been doing work in cutting-edge medicine for years and might have a newer, different treatment for them, and that seemed to smooth the ruffled feathers. He found that most of them needed to stay on the same prescriptions they'd had, however, and refilled them without further delay.

He also settled into a routine. Margaret showed up once a week with a new casserole or soup, varying the days so Carson always stayed on his toes. They shared the evening meal, and he often thought of his own mum on those evenings. His dreams tapered off the longer he was in Esperanza, and he finally started enjoying the night hours. The weather fluctuated between the heat of southern New Mexico and the more moderate temperatures to which he was accustomed, and he treated a lot of the school children for seasonal allergies and colds. The vitamins in his pharmacy sold like hot-cakes, as Margaret would say, and he placed an order with his supplier. He also reviewed Katie's resume, finding her more than qualified to take the job as his receptionist. However, he didn't have enough work to keep her busy all the time, so he hired her on a part-time basis. He spoke with her current boss over at the Esperanza Cafe, arranging for a work schedule that suited both businesses.

Halloween arrived with little fuss from Carson. He'd watched the decorations go up all through town and had shaken his head. Out of all the holidays, this one just didn't appeal, not when he'd seen blood and guts on a regular basis while in Pegasus. Somehow, that dampened his enthusiasm for anything of that nature.

Halloween night, he'd made sure to shut off all the lights in the front of his house and had retreated to his study to read. He'd found another easy chair and had set up a reading corner in the small room, as well as his home office. It was cozy, and he loved it. As he settled into the easy chair with a cup of tea and the latest medical journal he'd ordered, a knock broke the silence. Setting the tea aside, he pushed out of the chair, planning to tell whoever arrived that he didn't celebrate Halloween.

"Trick or treat!" The chorus surprised him as well as making him smile. He looked around at the shadowed faces of Sheppard, McKay, Ronon, Teyla, Jennifer, Marie, Amanda, Lorne, and Woolsey. The group beamed at him, and he stepped back as they carried various items into the house.

Sheppard eyed him. "Don't tell me you forgot."

Carson gave a sheepish shrug. "Aye, I did." He turned on the lights in the front room as Jennifer dumped bags of candy into a huge Jack-o-lantern bucket she'd brought. Ronon helped himself to a handful and received a smack on this hand for his efforts. He simply stared at Jennifer before dropping everything save the Tootsie Rolls back into the bucket.

"Hey, Doc, you know there's a party going on down the street?" Sheppard asked as if the byplay between Ronon and Jennifer was normal. And it was, for those from Atlantis. But Carson hadn't seen it in a while and found himself amused.

"Aye," Carson answered the colonel. "They've been decoratin' for weeks."

"Don't tell me you don't celebrate Halloween." Sheppard scowled at him.

Carson waved a hand. "Och, it was never really my thing." He stopped when he saw the sadness cross Sheppard's face. It was brief, something that he wouldn't have caught had he not been looking directly at the colonel. "I've said that before, haven't I?"

"Yeah." Sheppard shrugged. "Don't give it another thought, Doc. I understand."

Carson touched the man's shoulder and moved through the group, shaking hands with the men and hugging the women. Seeing all of them in his home made his month, and he moved to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It was bound to be a late night, and he realized he had nothing to serve them. He had well and truly forgotten about their arrival. Picking up the phone, he made a quick call, explaining the situation to Margaret, who promised to arrive shortly with some help.

Just after he hung up the phone, Lorne joined him in the kitchen. "How are you, Doc?"

"Oh, good." Carson grinned. "This town is amazin', an' I've met some very interestin' people already."

"I'm sure you have," the major replied dryly. "Listen, we all brought something. A housewarming gift, so to speak. I didn't know where you wanted everything."

Carson looked around, seeing the boxes the rest of the group held. Before he could say much more, there was a knock at the door. Ronon leaped to answer it, blinking down at two children dressed as a princess and a Transformer.

"Trick or treat!" The childish voices tapered off as they looked up and up at the huge Satedan.

The little boy recovered first. "Dude! What are you? Like, a surfer?"

Ronon blinked. "A what?"

Sheppard rescued the Satedan. "He's an alien."

"Cool!" the boy said. "What kind of alien?"

"A Satedan." Ronon's serious voice was lost on the kids. "Want some candy?"

"Yeah!" The two held out their buckets and received massive hands-ful for their efforts.

"What's a Satedan?" asked the boy.

Sheppard moved to Ronon's side. "It's an alien from the show Wormhole X-Treme."

"Oh!" The two stared up with awed eyes. "Thanks, Mr. Satedan!" They scampered off while waving.

Ronon closed the door and frowned at the room. "Why were they wearing costumes?"

While Sheppard explained the finer points of trick or treating to Ronon, Carson busied himself with pouring coffee and reconnecting with friends. Lorne carried a large, draped painting into the living room during a lull in the conversation and called Carson over to reveal a beautiful rendition of the Golden Gate Bridge. Carson recognized the angle, realizing that the major had painted it on the balcony of Atlantis. The gesture touched him, and he simply shook Lorne's hand rather than hugging him.

Marie caught his attention, and Carson found her, Amanda, and Jennifer grinning like Cheshire cats in the kitchen. They handed him a small box, saying they hadn't been able to think of anything for the house to get him. So, they settled for something to fit in the office. He opened the expertly-wrapped box and found a very nice, very expensive Littmann stethoscope in it. Laughing at the irony that he'd mentioned one of these just before Michael captured him, he hugged each of the women, thanking them for their thoughtful gift.

Sheppard mentioned that he'd unload Carson's new grill the next day, and McKay added a new coffee maker to the kitchen. It was bigger than the basic four-cup version Carson had purchased for his home, and it had quite a few upgrades—including voice activation. All the while, Ronon simply answered the door and handed out candy as neighborhood kids showed up. At one point, he yanked open the front door and stared down at Margaret Porter as she blinked up at him.

"Well, you must be Carson's friend," she said softly.

Carson rushed to Ronon's side. "Margaret. Let me introduce Ronon, a private contractor I worked with before coming here." He escorted the petite woman inside and introduced everyone in turn. Margaret found herself in her element and promptly took over the kitchen. She shooed Carson out of the way and informed him that he could play host from the other side of the island. Replying that he'd remember that the next time she showed up, he spent the time mingling with his friends.

The trick or treaters slowed after the first hour, and the group settled in to laugh and talk about their experiences since he'd left Atlantis. Margaret moved through them, serving coffee, cinnamon-apple Danish ring, and carrot cake. Carson tried to help, of course, but she seemed perfectly happy to serve the group. At one point, Carson pulled her into the kitchen.

"Margaret, I appreciate you comin' over, but you don't need ta stay."

She swatted his arm. "It's not a problem, Carson." She shrugged. "I was sitting at home, feeling sorry for myself anyway. Seeing your friends helps me feel better about being alone tonight."

He blinked as he realized she was still not happy at her daughter's delay. He pulled her into a hug, feeling almost as if his own mother had admitted to missing him. He briefly wondered if his own mum missed him in spite of knowing he was "dead." Did she wish he was around for her to hug? Thinking about it made tears come to his eyes, and he hugged Margaret tighter for just a moment. She patted his back, thinking he must have been lost in thought, and allowed him to slip back into the laughing group in the front room.

Someone pounded on the door the next time Carson moved to the kitchen to urge Margaret out and into the laughing group that had accepted her. He'd seen Mr. Woolsey watching her appreciatively and wanted to give his friend—and adopted mum—a place among his other friends. Now, however, he glanced up and frowned as Ronon opened the door, clearly expecting more trick or treaters.

A teenager with white face paint streaked with tears blinked up at Ronon. "Where's the doctor?"

Carson moved across the room at the panicked sound in her voice. "I'm right here. What's goin' on?" He reached out to invite her into his home, knowing she'd be overwhelmed but in a safe place.

She grabbed his arm. "Come quick! Debbie's sick!"

Carson took her by her shoulders. "Wait. Slow down. Who's sick?"

"Debbie." The girl rolled her eyes. "Her daddy owns the Double E Ranch?"

Carson immediately pictured the charming couple he'd spoken with at Howell's going-away party. "What's wrong with her?"

"I don't _know_!" The girl, who grew more agitated by the moment, grabbed his arm to drag him down the street. "Look, I was at the party down the street. I don't know what happened, but she just started shaking and fell over. There's foam coming out of her mouth, and she won't wake up. You _have_ to come _now_!"

Carson turned. "Jennifer, my medical kit is just inside my office door. I'll need it and you to come with me." He started to leave only to find Ronon pushing his way out the front door with him. He looked up. "Listen, Big Man, I appreciate the thought, but I need you to stay here."

"I'm coming." Ronon's short statement irritated Carson for a moment.

"Ronon, I don't have time. . . ."

"That's right, you don't." The Satedan stared at him. "I'm coming."

Carson gave Ronon a frustrated look and grabbed the medical kit that Jennifer had retrieved. He headed down the street, following the distraught girl to the house that Sheppard had pointed out earlier that evening. The front yard had been decorated in various gory decorations, and he was grateful when their escort led them down the side of the house into the backyard. A long table had been set up, and teenagers in various costumes and various states of disarray crowded the small yard. The majority of them were huddled around one area, but a few seemed to not care what was happening. One tall young man made a comment to Jennifer, and she just rolled her eyes. Carson ignored all of that, taking in the plastic cups that littered the area along with the strong smell of alcohol, loud music pounding out of the house, and strobe light in the tree. Finally, he pushed his way through the onlookers, somewhat amused when Ronon shoved drunk teens back so that he could get to his patient.

Debbie Engleside lay on the ground, unconscious with vomit draining down the side of her face. Carson dropped to his knees, feeling for a pulse as he accepted a pair of latex gloves from Jennifer. Snapping them on, he checked pupil dilation and was discouraged to see them sluggish. Turning, he snapped, "What happened?" Seeing the strobe light, he pointed. "Turn that off."

The annoying strobe winked a final time as silence settled. Jennifer looked at him. "Carson, is she epileptic?"

"No, an' that's wha' has me worried." Carson whirled to the girl who had come to get him. "What did she take?" When no one answered, he stood and raised his voice. "Listen, if no one tells me wha' she took, I can't treat her! Now, someone tell me wha' she took and how much so I can save her life!"

The young man who made a pass at Jennifer earlier raised one finger into the air. "She took some pills. Lots of 'em."

"What kind of pills?" Carson demanded. He received various shrugs in response. Pointing at the girl who had come to get him, he ordered, "Call an ambulance now! No questions! Get one on the way here." Whirling, he met Ronon's eyes. "Ronon, I need ye ta head back to my house. Tell Amanda and Marie I've got a patient who has suffered a seizure of unknown etiology. If you can remember that, they'll know what to bring. Everything is in my study. Now, hurry!"

Ronon took off with the speed that kept him alive. Carson knelt back by the girl and cursed his lack of any kind of medical equipment in his bag. Of course, he didn't keep benzodiazepines in his medical kit. Together with Jennifer, he worked to keep Debbie alive until medical help could arrive.

Amanda and Marie arrived some time later, along with Sheppard and McKay. The party broke up when the colonel appeared, with almost everyone deserting Debbie. The girl who came for Carson, named Beth, stayed behind. She watched with a sick expression, and Marie moved to her side to get her out of the way. Carson and Jennifer administered an IV, started medications, and did everything in their power to keep Debbie from slipping further away. When the ambulance finally arrived, Carson helped secure Debbie to a backboard. Mr. Engleside had already been notified and was on his way in his own vehicle, escorted by the local sheriff to the nearest hospital.

With everything he could do done, Carson watched the ambulance take off with sirens, lights, and speed. He let out a deep breath and turned to Sheppard. "_Now_ you know why I don't like Halloween."

oOo

_They were dying._

_He held the head of a man who convulsed, hoping to minimize the potential damage caused by repeated impacts to the skull. But it was a lost cause. This patient, just like the ten before him and the twenty or so that still languished on harsh metal beds, would die. There was nothing he could do to prevent it._

_Soon, the fight was over, and he covered the body with a sheet. Before he could do much more than that, another patient went into convulsions. The metal bed she occupied rattled against the wall of the warehouse, and it triggered two more patients' seizures. He rushed from bed to bed, trying to ease the final passing from this world for at least a few. Their skin had already turned blue, something that was inevitable given his experiments, and their eyes showed the reptilian slits of the Wraith._

_He couldn't save any of them. But he still tried. Administered medications to ease their suffering while hoping that something, somehow, would stop the fatal seizures. Nothing he did helped, and he watched while those he'd tried to save slipped through his fingers._

Carson didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he sat upright. It was actually close to dawn, though his body craved more sleep. After the heartbreaking end to last night's reunion, he'd returned home to wait for a phone call. Part of him had wanted to climb aboard that ambulance, but he knew he couldn't leave Esperanza. Especially if more of those kids had taken whatever drug Debbie Engleside had ingested. So, he'd sat up and waited for another phone call to come. None had, save for Mr. Engleside calling to tell him that Debbie would pull through her experience.

With the first day of November now upon him, Carson quietly crept into his washroom and splashed cold water on his face. He hadn't dreamed of that first batch of patients in a while. Among his nightmares, it was one of the worst. Not because of the trauma of it, though there was plenty of that. But because he'd been so frustratingly helpless. His hands had been tied just as much as theirs had. He was a captive, just like them. And, yet, he'd inflicted that death upon them. He knew they suffered, heard it in their moans and saw it in that frightened gaze that fixed on him in their dying moments. And he'd wept when it was all over.

Michael had wanted him back up, back to work the next day. But Carson had refused. For some reason, Michael had left him alone for several days after that, though he insisted that Carson return to work within the week. That callousness had stayed with Carson, and he could not forget the expressions on the villagers' faces.

Strolling into the kitchen, he wasn't surprised to find Sheppard and Ronon sharing a cup of coffee. Jennifer and Rodney had taken a room at the bed and breakfast, as had Amanda and Lorne. Marie settled there as well, leaving Sheppard and Ronon to crash at Carson's. The familiar presence of his friends soothed Carson's nerves as he poured a cup of coffee from McKay's housewarming gift. Last night, he'd been among friends and perfectly happy. Today. . . .today, he struggled to shrug off the first nightmare he'd had in a month. Part of him wished he hadn't given the kitten away in spite of his memories of being allergic, and the other part of him was grateful he could be alone.

Ronon met his eyes and nodded once, the Satedan's nightmares just as vivid as Carson's. And Sheppard didn't speak. Out of the entire group that appeared last night, these two best understood the aftermath of a flashback. And they simply waited until Carson was ready to talk.

"Thank you," he said softly after twenty minutes or so.

Ronon shrugged. "Didn't do anything." But his expression said he understood.

Sheppard leaned forward. "You gonna be okay, Doc?"

"Aye." Carson offered the colonel a smile. "Just brought up some. . .unpleasant memories."

Sheppard touched his shoulder as he got up for another cup of coffee. Before much more was said, the rest of their team arrived. Mr. Woolsey had returned to Atlantis the night before, but everyone gathered around Carson's table for breakfast and laughter, no one commenting on how tired Carson seemed. When they left later that afternoon, Carson waved goodbye and allowed himself to admit the truth. As much as he needed to be here, in Esperanza, he missed Atlantis. He missed his friends. And he looked forward to seeing them at Christmas, just as they'd planned that morning.

~TBC


	6. Chapter 6

After his friends left, Carson typed up a doctor's report on the entire incident with Debbie. He printed it and tucked it into a file before locking his house. He'd documented his decision to stay behind rather than riding along in the ambulance as his desire to be available should any of the other kids at that party show the same symptoms. In reality, he simply wanted to stay away from a situation that reminded him of one of his greatest failures.

Thinking about that now brought a weary sigh. And a headache. He'd done his best to put on a smile for the others that morning, and the effort had drained him. Sheppard and Ronon knew and understood, and Carson hoped he hadn't disrupted their sleep too badly. It seemed that being away from Atlantis kept the nightmares at bay except for certain triggers. He'd seen a psychologist before and knew what he would say: it might take years for the dreams to fade, if they faded at all. Carson had left Atlantis for several reasons, the primary of which was his need for peace.

At the doctor's office, Carson filed the report and spent some time walking through the facility. It wasn't nearly as grand as Atlantis's infirmary. In fact, it was a step in the opposite direction from what he'd had on Atlantis. Outdated equipment, tiny rooms, virtually no staff, and no emergency or triage area. Last night's events came back to mind, and Carson realized how isolated Esperanza really was. He needed to be able to treat life-threatening illnesses should an ambulance be delayed or unavailable.

A jingle of the bell over the door brought him out of his office. A tall, thin man in his fifties stood in the doorway, his haggard face surveying the newly-decorated waiting area. "Love what you've done with the place, Doc."

"Thank you, Mr. Engleside." Carson moved around the receptionist's desk to shake the rancher's hand.

Engleside held on. "Thank you, Doc." He released Carson's hand and scrubbed at his face. "If you hadn't been there. . . ."

Carson's personal demons fled at the sight of this man's exhaustion. He put a hand on Engleside's shoulder. "It was my pleasure, Mr. Engleside."

"Call me 'Doug.'" Engleside let out an exhausted breath. "I just got back and wanted to let you know Debbie's doing well. They're keeping her sedated until the worst of the withdrawals are over."

"Did they identify the substance?" Carson asked, not thinking about the withdrawal method doctors were using.

"Meth." Doug's announcement made Carson shake his head. "I knew she was using _something_, but I could never figure it out. And it wasn't all the time—or it didn't seem to be all the time." After another long pause, he sighed. "If you hadn't been there. . . ." he said again.

Carson understood the repetitive words. Doug had nearly lost his daughter, and he needed to bleed off the stress. "Well, I had some help. Two excellent doctors I worked with in the past were visiting, as well as their head nurse. I couldnae ha'e done it without them."

Doug nodded. "You can bet we're not going to let this happen again."

"I know." Carson smiled at the man. "If you need anything, Mr. Engleside, just let me know."

Doug nodded. "I'm glad you're in Esperanza, Doc. Real glad." He turned to leave and stopped at the door. "You know, when I mentioned that Dr. Carson Beckett had treated Debbie at the scene, the docs at UNM got real excited."

"UNM?" Carson had an idea of what the initials stood for, but he wanted to be sure.

"University of New Mexico. Debbie's in the hospital there." Doug shrugged. "You must be a real important doctor for them to recognize your name."

Carson smiled. "Aye, well, I've just done wha' any other doctor in my position would ha'e done."

Doug narrowed his eyes, knowing he'd get nothing else from Carson. The rancher was one of two men who kept the town afloat with business and money, and he knew as much about Carson Beckett as Howell had when Howell hired him. "Thanks again, Doc."

"You're welcome."

Carson watched the man walk away as silence enveloped the office. He let out a deep breath and locked up for the day. He was exhausted and ready for some rest. Unfortunately, he didn't think his nightmares would let off for a while yet. Not with Debbie's situation so fresh in his mind.

Not wanting to be alone, Carson slipped into Porter's Tea and Coffee house. He was careful about how many sweets he consumed, especially with everyone believing him to be an insulin-dependent diabetic, but he needed company this afternoon. The coffee house was quiet, with school not having let out just yet and most of the town's residents occupied with whatever kept them going on a Tuesday afternoon. Margaret came from the office, and she smiled when she recognized him.

"Carson." Her eyes narrowed. "I was just about to take a break for some coffee. Care to join me?"

"Aye." Carson smiled easily, appreciative of her refusal to call him on the real reason he was there. "Thank you, Margaret."

She waved a hand at him while she fixed two cups of coffee and pulled two cheese Danishes from the case next to the cash register. Carson took the two coffees and chose a table next to the window. Wrapping his fingers around the warm mug, he took a sip and smiled. Margaret had managed to get his preferred mix just right, and he realized she knew it when she gave him a smug grin. For a moment, he wondered where he knew her from because she looked so familiar. He had just about placed her when she dropped into the chair across from him. "That's a thoughtful expression, Carson."

"Aye." He accepted the Danish and broke off a small piece. "You remind me of someone, but I cannae place ye."

Margaret blinked. "What happened?" At his questioning glance, she blew out a frustrated breath. "I can tell you're not sleeping, Carson, and your accent has _never_ been that thick."

Delaying the inevitable by slowly eating the piece of Danish, Carson stared into his coffee. Perhaps he needed to talk about what kept him awake at night. Unfortunately, he couldn't do that without breaking the classification around the Stargate Program and his own existence. "Last night, with Debbie, reminded me of some things I've gone through." He met her eyes. "I'll be fine, Margaret. It just stirred up the memories."

She nodded once. "If you're ever able to talk about it, come find me."

"I'll do that." He sat back in his chair, stretching his legs out and enjoying the quiet. Their friendship wasn't one of words, though they happily argued with one another if the need arose. Right then, Carson needed a friend, and Margaret was happy to fill that role. As he'd told her, he would be fine. Eventually.

oOo

Katie stood completely still in the pharmacy as she listened to Carson lock the doctor's office and leave for the day. She'd been behind the desk, stocking shelves, when she heard voices next door. Creeping over to listen, she'd received news she never wanted to hear.

Debbie Engleside had overdosed at a party last night. Katie clenched her fist to keep from throwing the bottle of vitamins she held. With no one in the doctor's office—Carson had discovered that she and Jorge celebrated Halloween and gave them the day off—she didn't have to be as careful about sounds. But she needed to do something.

She knew where Debbie had gotten the drugs. When she'd filled that particular prescription, she'd warned the person about it. Normally, she could have cared less about her "patients," but this time was different. This time, it wasn't a normal client, and there was a party planned for that night. Now, with Doug Engleside's beloved angel in the hospital, he'd start tearing the town apart until he found Katie.

Unless. . . .

Moving behind the counter, Katie glanced at the front window. No one passed by right now, but she couldn't afford to allow anyone to see her. Not if she wanted to get out of this. As she worked, her mind turned over all of the different options. She had several ways she could go, but one was _definitely_ more attractive than the others. She considered this one as she snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

In the month that she'd worked in the clinic, Carson had not looked at her once. Not the way she wanted to be looked at, that is. She'd dressed in such a way to attract his attention to her better assets while keeping it tame. He seemed to appreciate that, but she couldn't figure out what made him tick. He didn't look at any woman in the way a man did when he wanted her. It infuriated Katie, who was accustomed to having any man in town. And she'd had more than a few of them. But she'd kept herself separate for a time. Carson Beckett promised to be incredible when she finally did snare him, and she wanted to make certain she could enjoy every day with him.

Now, she had a way to pull him to her side. Finding the bottles she searched for, she dumped three pills into her hand and ensured that none of the bottles looked disturbed. She couldn't afford to have her plan wrecked now because of simple carelessness. Depositing the pills into a small baggie, she slid them into her pocket and pulled off her gloves. As she left through the back door, she smiled. Perhaps she could handle letting loose a bit tonight, especially since it would get her where she needed to go.

Happy with herself, Katie drove directly to the hardware store and sauntered inside, knowing she wouldn't have to beg for this rendezvous to occur. Truth be told, it was too easy, and she left the Engleside ranch that night with a satisfied smile on her face that had nothing to do with the man she'd just left sleeping off their night of passion.

oOo

"You son of a. . . ." The rest of Doug Engleside's epithet was lost as his fist connected with Carson's jaw. Carson tumbled backwards and fell to the ground, his forehead bouncing off of a hall table he'd placed in the small corridor that connected the clinic's reception area to the patient room and his office. He tasted blood as he was yanked to his feet by his lab coat and slammed into the wall, resulting in another sharp jolt of pain, this time to his back. Doug was completely enraged, his tired blue eyes wide and bloodshot. He jerked Carson toward him. "Just what do you think you're doing in this town?"

"Wha'?" Carson blinked, trying to clear his head from the initial blow.

"You know what!" Engleside hissed. "I found _pills_ in my daughter's room! Wanna tell me how those got there?"

Before Carson could answer, Jorge came running from the back of the clinic. "Hey!" He grabbed Engleside's arms and pried them off of Carson. Pushing the angry rancher away from the doctor, he got into the man's face. "What gives you the right to come in here like this?"

"I'll tell you what gives me the right!" Engleside rushed for Carson again, only to be stopped by Jorge's superior bulk. The rancher was wiry, and it took the Hispanic nurse physically restraining him to keep him from striking Carson again.

Blinking back the headache, Carson realized he had a split lip, would develop a black eye, and that a cut on his eyebrow bled quite badly. "Mr. Engleside, I assure you that I have _no_ idea wha' you're talkin' about."

"Oh, yeah?" Engleside pulled a small baggie from his pocket. "Tell me about _these_!"

Carson took the baggie, and Jorge, realizing that Engleside had calmed enough to not resort to physical violence, released the man. He stayed close, however, physically putting himself between Carson and the rancher. Carson was reminded of Ronon in that moment and wondered if he could give Jorge a raise. Letting out a deep sigh, he looked at the three pills in the baggie and frowned. Small white pills with "OV" printed on one side stared up at him. Carson turned them over, seeing the number "12" printed on the opposite side, and headed for the pharmacy with a muttered curse. Engleside and Jorge followed him, and he ignored them. He was too focused on the matter at hand.

Pulling on a pair of gloves, he found the Desoxyn on his shelf, realizing that one of the bottles didn't have dust on it like the rest did. A quick records check showed that Howell had last filled a prescription for Desoxyn two years ago. The medication had neared its expiration date already, and Carson dumped the pills onto a work bench to count them. "Dear Lord!"

Jorge stepped forward before Engleside could rush Carson again. "What is it, Doc?"

"There are two dozen pills missin'." Carson swept the medication back into the bottle and closed it. He walked around the corner and met Engleside's eyes. "Mr. Engleside, I assure you that I have no idea what is goin' on here, but I promise you I'll find out."

Apparently it was the right thing to say. "You didn't give my girl those pills?"

"No." Carson glanced at Jorge. "In fact, no one has come in here for a Desoxyn prescription for two years. Normally, that medication comes in five milligram pills, so Debbie would have had to take a lot of them for what happened to her. I need to do a complete inventory to know what's missin' and how much of it is missin'. Until then, I cannae tell ye much."

"She nearly _died_, Doc."

"Aye, I know." Carson put a hand on the man's shoulders. "Let me look into this, Mr. Engleside."

The rancher nodded, not happy at all but placated for the moment. "I'm sorry for. . . ." He motioned to Carson's face.

"Och, don't worry yourself." He smiled as much as possible with a split lip. "I'll see if I can get the lab reports from your daughter's blood work as well, an' I'll be able to compare the Desoxyn with what was in her bloodstream. Hopefully, we'll get to the bottom o' this quickly."

"Yeah." Engleside glanced at Jorge before he headed for the door. Jorge followed him out and then turned the "Open" sign to the opposite side.

"Doc?"

Carson stood at the counter and stared. Someone had stolen medication from his pharmacy, and a girl had nearly died because of it. That stung. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't." Jorge put a hand on his arm, and Carson found himself sitting in his own patient room while the nurse applied butterfly stitches to the cut above his eye and gave him an ice pack. Once Jorge had finished, Carson released him for the day, closed the practice, and slipped back into the pharmacy. Still wearing the bloodstained lab coat, he sank into a chair behind the counter. Pinching the bridge of his nose didn't help his headache, and he knew only finding the perpetrator would make all of this okay.

oOo

"What happened to you?" Margaret stared at Carson's face as he opened to door to find her on his front porch that evening. He'd spent the remainder of the afternoon in the pharmacy and had barely arrived after confirming that he was short an entire bottle of Desoxyn. He couldn't know what else was missing, but he knew that a lot of those medications could be dangerous if mixed. He'd closed the pharmacy indefinitely, creating some inconvenience for Esperanza's residents, and he'd decided that he would personally fill all prescriptions until he figured out what happened. Then, he'd come home, ready for an ice pack on his head and some sleep. He likely had a mild concussion, but it had been long enough since the injury that he wasn't concerned about being alone. Now, though, he let Margaret into his house and closed the door softly behind her.

"Mr. Engleside came to the clinic today."

Her eyes widened as she set another of her casseroles on his stove. "_Doug_ did this?"

"Aye." Carson tried to offer her a smile and stopped when it pulled painfully at his swollen lip. "He had every right, Margaret."

She folded her arms over her chest. "No, he didn't. Besides, I've never known Doug to go around punching people for the sake of it." The hesitation in her eyes gave her away, though, and he decided not to call her on it.

Carson walked over to her, taking her by the shoulders. "I never thought he was. But you have ta understand he found pills from _my_ pharmacy in his daughter's things."

She blinked. "Debbie Engleside is the girl who overdosed?" She reached for a chair that wasn't there, and Carson moved quickly to provide one from the dining table. "I didn't think she. . . .She's always been such a good girl. Reminds me of my Ali at that age."

Carson sat in his own dining chair and propped his elbows on his knees. "Margaret, I know this is a difficult question to answer, but you know this town better than I do. Is there _anyone_ who would break into the pharmacy?"

She took a moment to honestly consider his question. "No." She frowned. "Well, I don't know the younger crowd the way I used to, but I can't think of anyone who would want to break into your pharmacy. Unless they did it as a stunt."

"There's medication missing, Margaret." He shook his head. "An entire bottle of Desoxyn, which is basically methamphamine hydrochloride used for treating ADHD. An' I have no idea what else might be missing because I havnae had the chance to do a complete inventory."

She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, Carson, I am so sorry."

"Don't be, Mum." He stood and reached for a plate. "We'll figure it out."

"I know you will." She eyed him. "What did you just call me?"

Carson stared at her and blinked. The Freudian slip had caught him off guard as well, but he couldn't take it back now. "Margaret, I'm sorry. It's just. . . .I lost my mum a couple years back." He blinked, not surprised at how emotional he felt given the day's events. "You've taken that place recently, an' I. . . .I dinnae mean to presume."

She moved over to him and hugged him. "Stop talking, Carson." She laughed softly when he returned the hug. "I'm pleased to fill that role any day. Now," she said as she patted his back, "why don't you sit down with an ice pack while I get dinner ready?"

Feeling a sense of peace creep into him, Carson returned to the table and wearily propped his head on his hand. Margaret fixed their plates and the two shared the dinner meal in private. He still faced long days of counting medications and cross-referencing inventory lists. But he could relax tonight knowing that he had at least one friend close by who was willing to adopt him into her family.

And that made all the difference.

~TBC


	7. Chapter 7

_Blood was everywhere. He stood over the young lady, staring down as she blinked frantically at him. He'd begged for her life and had received a blow to the gut, as well as one to the kidneys, for his troubles. Then, as he'd been barely recovering his breath, Michael had acted. The knife had flashed in the dim light, but it was the girl's sudden gasp of air that told him what had happened. Then, she'd bonelessly slid from Michael's grip to fall on the floor, leaving the bloody knife in Michael's hand._

"_You will do the research as I have asked. Or, I will do this to another human tomorrow. And the next day. And every day you refuse." Michael's cold words were followed by the clang of the iron door that kept him in his prison._

_Gasping for air, he dropped to his knees. "Oh, God!" He ripped off his jacket and pressed it into the wound on her side. But it was too little, too late. There was nothing he could do for her. He had no medications, no surgical implements. Even a knife, needle, and thread might have saved her life. But she bled out too quickly, her own bloodstained hand reaching for him. With tears in his eyes, he took her hand and forced himself to meet her gaze._

"_I'm so sorry, lass," he whispered. Her hazel eyes, which had drifted closed, found his, and he maintained eye contact as she slipped from the world. When the light in her eyes was finally extinguished and her head lolled to one side, he blinked and sent a cascade of tears down his own face. Reaching out with a shaking hand, he closed her eyes._

Carson sat upright in bed, tears flowing as a shout tried to escape. He managed to stop the cry, but his stomach rebelled at the memory. Swallowing violently, he kept from bringing up what little he'd eaten the night before. A glance at the clock told him it was three in the morning, and it surprised him that he'd slept as long as he had. His head ached, and he knew he'd split open his lip during the night terrors.

Throwing off the suffocating blanket, he rushed into the washroom and ran some cold water. Splashing it over his face, he was again reminded that New Mexico wasn't Scotland. The water was cold, but not as cold as it could have been. Or as he wanted. It did little to stop the trembling in his hands and turned pink from the blood on his lip.

When he finally felt like he could stand upright without puking, Carson eyed himself in the mirror. His hair stood on end, reminding him of Sheppard, and his skin was pale. Clammy. The flashback was the worst that he could remember in a long time, and he'd hoped to avoid having that particular one for a while. Remembering how Michael had callously taken the life of an innocent young woman because Carson refused to do his dirty work had shaken the physician. While he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he was safe in Esperanza—that Michael was irrefutably dead—he lived with the results. Debbie's situation had stirred up the memories, but Carson had managed to keep all of them at bay. Until now.

Someone had stolen drugs from his pharmacy to sell to minors. And one of those minors had nearly died from said drugs. If for no other reason, Carson felt responsible. Oh, he'd not given the girl the drugs nor had he okayed their usage by someone other than the intended patient. But he was responsible for the safety of the pharmacy.

Grabbing some Tylenol, Carson moved into the kitchen and drew a glass of water. He swallowed the medication, knowing his headache would vanish eventually. But the horrible taste of bile would take a long time to fade. Restless energy bubbled inside, and he set aside the cup and reached for his jogging shoes. His head would likely pound with each step, but he couldn't stay home much longer.

Not taking any time to stretch, Carson took off down the street at his fastest speed. He rarely ran like this, but the demons of the past that he'd put aside seemed intent on hounding him tonight. And he needed to get away, to clear his head and breathe for a bit. He reached the pharmacy before he slowed and bent forward to put his hands on his knees and breathe. The town center looked just as idyllic as it had when he'd first arrived, with pretty streetlamps lighting the way every few feet. The wrought iron lamp post nearest him provided a place to lean as he looked around. The front of the pharmacy was dark, with only a light burning in the back, a light he'd left on when he went home the previous evening. He didn't see anyone inside, but it was obvious that something had happened. At least, it was to him. He could see the slight bit of disarray and how the medication bottles had been left askew. Back on Atlantis, he never allowed that to happen.

With his breath caught again, Carson headed back home. He showered after his run, feeling his stomach calm enough that he could handle some tea and oatmeal for breakfast. Margaret would want to see him sometime that day, but he wasn't sure he could handle coffee until after he'd met with Katie and Jorge. Things were about to change at the clinic, and he didn't necessarily want to make those changes. It meant his idyllic life had been disrupted yet again, and he'd hoped to get away from all of that when he left Atlantis.

Nearly five hours after his emotional run, Carson walked into his office and set his files on his desk. He pulled on his lab coat and found Jorge organizing some supplies in a closet and preparing for the day. The nurse eyed him, and Carson nodded. He was fine, and he would recover. Satisfied, Jorge went back to his work as Carson informed him of a meeting in his office.

In the receptionist's area, Katie had already opened the clinic and settled behind the computer. Today, she wore a pencil skirt that stopped well above her knees but was still long enough to be considered appropriate, tall heels, and a tailored blouse. The top three buttons on her blouse were undone, however, and she leaned seductively back when he appeared. The smirk on her face froze, however, when she took a look at him.

"Good God, Carson! What happened?"

Carson offered her a smile. "Och, nothin' to worry yourself about." He would have added his traditional "love" to the end of that, but something warned him not to encourage her.

She stood, moving to his side as he opened a file cabinet. "Don't tell me it's nothing. You look like you met the business end of a baseball bat."

He chuckled at that. "Oh, nothin' like that happened. I just had a wee bit of an accident yesterday." And he had. Falling had been an accident, though he'd been helped along by Doug Engleside's fist.

Katie put a hand on his arm, moving close as she insisted on looking at his face. "Let me see." Her eyes, which were brown now that he was close enough to notice, moved as she looked at his injuries. He'd replaced the butterfly bandage over his eye, knowing that Jorge would have insisted if he hadn't. However, his focus right now was anywhere but on Katie's face. Given the difference in their height, he couldn't look down at her without getting an eyeful of what she kept buttoned behind the blouse. As much as the idea appealed to the purely male side of Carson, he didn't want to even cross that line with an employee, much less Katie. He liked her as a receptionist and person, but he refused to even consider starting a relationship with someone who couldn't know the full extent of his former job and life as a clone. There were precious few women running around Esperanza who had that kind of security clearance.

Finally, Katie stepped back. "You let me know if you need anything, Carson. And I don't care what time it is."

He smiled. "I'll keep that in mind." Pulling Debbie Engleside's file from the drawer, he turned. "Can I see ye an' Jorge in my office for a bit, please? An' close the clinic." With that, he left her staring after him.

Returning to his office, Carson settled behind the desk and opened the file. The walls were still bare, but the blue paint with white trim helped warm up the room considerably. He no longer felt like he'd stepped into a mental institution but like he was back home, in his father's study. Of course, his father preferred burgundy and wine colors to blue, but the furniture created a sense of nostalgia that he found difficult to shake this morning. Pulling his mind from his father, Scotland, and everything he'd lost when he discovered he was a clone, he glanced up as Katie and Jorge filed through the door. Katie took a seat directly across from Carson, crossing one leg over her knee in another of her attention-grabbing poses. For a moment, Carson wondered if he'd made a mistake in hiring her but refused to think about it right then.

Jorge, who leaned against the low bookshelf next to the door, nodded to him. "What's up, Doc?"

Carson rolled his eyes at the reference to Bugs Bunny. "Well, I've decided to close the pharmacy for the time bein'."

Katie blinked at him. "You've what?"

Carson turned to her. "Doug Engleside found Desoxyn pills from _my_ dispensary in his daughter's room. I'm waitin' for labs from UNM to determine if the meth she took came from the missin' pills or another source. But until I can find out, I'm closin' the pharmacy."

"But what about everyone whose scripts are about to be refilled?" Katie asked.

"They'll have to go elsewhere." Carson met her eyes. "I hate puttin' the town in this position, Katie, really I do. But I cannae have someone stealin' drugs from the pharmacy an' distributin' them while I know about it. For the next bit, the pharmacy will remain under lock an' key while I do a complete inventory and find out if anything else is missing."

She stared at him, her eyes widening. For a moment, he wondered if he saw panic in them. Then, it was gone. "You're sure it was Desoxyn?"

"Aye."

Jorge stirred. "And what about Engleside? You gonna press charges?"

Carson touched his sore eyebrow. "No." He shrugged. "I'm afraid I would ha'e done the same thing if I were in his position."

Jorge accepted that with a nod, though he wasn't thrilled about it. "What about the clinic?"

"We'll be closin' early for the next bit." Carson turned back to Katie. "I need ye ta reschedule all appointments after three in the afternoon. Apologize for the inconvenience and tell them we'll work them into our normal schedule as quickly as possible. An' you both will have shortened hours for the time bein'. I'll do my best to keep it from affectin' your paychecks, but it has to be done."

The office was quiet for a time. Finally, Katie sighed. "Carson, I know you're right. But. . . ."

"I know." He nodded. "Would you reschedule those appointments, please?"

She stood and left at his quiet request, leaving him feeling like he wanted to sigh in relief. Jorge closed the door. "You're really not pressing charges."

"Och, no." Carson eyed the nurse. "Is there somethin' on your mind?"

"Yeah." Jorge settled into the chair Katie had vacated. "Just that you need to take some time."

"I am." Carson shook his head. "I'm keepin' an eye on my headache, an' I'll be fine."

"I'm not worried about the headache, Doc." Jorge pointed. "That shiner will take a while to fade, an' I'm sure you're not gonna tell everyone in town that Doug Engleside attacked you."

"You're right." Carson let out a deep breath. "I just. . . .I need ta know if anyone is stealin' medications and which ones."

Obviously realizing Carson's need to be alone for a bit, Jorge pushed to his feet and left the office with a quiet offer to go out for drinks later. Carson appreciated the offer, but he doubted he'd take the nurse up on it. It just wouldn't solve the problems. With a sigh, Carson opened the file and began to read.

oOo

"Dr. Beckett?" Katie's voice from his office door interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes?" he asked without looking up from his desk. He'd taken to going through patient files, looking for signs of drug use from them on the off chance that someone else was using Desoxyn as well.

"Mrs. Porter is here to see you," Katie said.

Carson looked up in time to see Margaret push past Katie. He stood. "Margaret!"

She held out a covered plate. "I didn't see you this morning, and I thought I'd bring something over."

Carson accepted the plate as Katie closed the door behind Margaret. He peeked under the foil, seeing the deli sandwich, potato chips, and large Danish. A glance at the door made him wonder if Katie was still outside, so he said, "Och, Margaret, ye know I need ta watch my sugars."

Margaret caught his glance and gave him a sly smile. She waited until he motioned her toward the couch he'd tucked against the wall. It crowded the small office, but he wanted it close. It reminded him of his time in Atlantis and that not all of his memories of the city were bad. Settling on one end, he uncovered the plate and picked up the sandwich. "Thank you," he said gratefully when his stomach growled.

Margaret nodded. "I had a feeling you wouldn't be eating much." She narrowed her eyes and leaned toward him. "Carson, are you okay?"

"Aye." He set down the sandwich and wiped his hands on the napkin she'd brought. "I dinnae sleep well last night, an' I'm tryin' to ignore what's comin' in two hours."

"And what's that?"

"Inventory."

She shuddered. "I may not be counting medications, but I _do_ understand that. I do it often enough."

Carson nodded. "It's worse in a pharmacy. I'll need to inventory all of the merchandise, as well as each individual pill and ounce. It'll take me weeks."

"Weeks?"

"Aye. I'll be doin' the inventory myself, which means a few hours after work each day. Until then, the dispensary will stay closed." He shook his head. "I was plannin' to do that soon, anyway, but I wish it was under different circumstances."

Margaret didn't say anything, and Carson finished eating while enjoying her quiet company. Just last night, he'd confided that he looked at her like an adopted mother, and she filled that role nicely. Now, he realized that she just needed someone to be a mother to since her daughter was gone.

Two hours after Margaret ambled back to her coffee house, Carson sent Katie and Jorge home. Closing down the clinic, he entered the darkened pharmacy and looked around. "Well, no time like the present."

Rubbing his hands together, he located his inventory list and set to work.

oOo

For the next two and a half weeks, Carson worked until three in the afternoon at the clinic and then spent the next two to three hours in the pharmacy. He could have finished inventory sooner, but he'd not been sleeping well. Debbie Engleside returned home, and Carson had seen her once since her return. Doug Engleside was mortified at how he'd treated Carson, but the minor cuts healed. Still, seeing Debbie so depressed—though she swore she'd never do drugs again—stirred up memories he would have rather kept forgotten. Those interrupted his sleep, which often left him bleary-eyed by the time he started counting medications. Rather than making mistakes, he painstakingly double and triple checked his counts before marking it off. He started with the obvious medications: Desoxyn, oxycotin, and pain meds. What he found wasn't encouraging.

He was incredibly short on pain medications. A lot of his patients were elderly and took low doses of the pills to help with arthritis pain. But he'd gone through those patient files, seeing that they filled their prescriptions regularly but in the allotted amount of time. He'd never had to deal with this situation and how to handle it confused him. If he took it to the local sheriff, that man would start an investigation into Howell, Carson, and the medical practice. As much as he didn't want to interrupt Howell's retirement, Carson certainly did not want the sheriff looking into his past. If that happened, he'd likely wind up back at the SGC long before he wanted.

Realizing that was his exhaustion talking, Carson pinched the bridge of his nose. Thanksgiving was approaching, and Margaret had gone into "preparation mode." Everything was done with a sparkle in her eye and mention of her daughter. She wanted Carson to join them for Thanksgiving dinner, as well as Sunday dinner as well as. . . . While he understood and wasn't opposed to spending time with Margaret and her daughter, he hadn't come to Esperanza to find a woman. He hadn't come to uncover a drug problem in the town. He'd just wanted to be a doctor.

Too tired to think about it, Carson gave Jorge and Katie the day off on Thanksgiving Day and locked up the clinic early the day before. He'd already spread the word that he'd be available for those inevitable allergic reactions and medical needs. With families pouring into Esperanza, life had become hectic, and he walked back to his home in silence. The late November day had cooled considerably, and his body had acclimated to the region. It still wasn't as cold as Scotland, but he moved directly to the stove and started a pot of tea straightaway.

It was Thanksgiving, and he was alone. Normally, that thought wouldn't have even occurred to him. He'd never even celebrated the American holiday. But Margaret had worried over him obsessively for the last two weeks. Her daughter's imminent arrival only made it worse, and he shook his head. Back in Scotland, he used to humor his mum when she got this way and then escape to a local pub with one of his brothers. Here, he didn't have that support system. Besides, he didn't want to visit the local bar. It just did not appeal to him, not with all the cowboys that worked at the outlying ranches.

Rubbing his fingers over his eyes, Carson stared out the plate glass window in his living room and watched the New Mexico evening turn dark and cloudy. Maybe, with the rain, he'd sleep that night. Tired of hoping, he got up, fixed a cup of tea, and spent the remainder of the night listening to the wind.

~TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Thanksgiving Day dawned cool and windy. Carson stared out the glass door in his bedroom at dark clouds scudding across the sky and rolled his eyes. It looked like the perfect day to spend curled up with a cup of tea and the last of the medical journals he'd wanted to get caught up on. He hadn't slept well the night before, his subconscious waking him before the dreams became too severe. He could handle a day without the stress of Katie trying to turn his head, Jorge hovering protectively when anyone walked into the clinic, and counting pills. Although, that last issue was finally over, finished late the night before in a spurt of angry energy. He'd eventually received the reports from UNM and they showed that the chemical compound of the drugs Debbie had taken was different from the Desoxyn in his lab. Which meant they had a meth dealer in town but it also meant someone had been helping themselves to the pain pills in the dispensary.

Already tired of thinking, Carson pushed from the warm bed and climbed into a hot shower. Finally dressed for the day, he started tea, eyeing the high-tech coffee maker McKay had given him. He rarely used it, choosing instead to visit with Margaret over a cup of her French roast. Over the weeks, she spoiled him with ready-made coffee and the welcoming environment of the tea and coffee house. Carson often felt his stress melt away as soon as he walked through the door of her establishment.

With tea steeping, light breakfast eaten, and the house warming from a fire in the front room, Carson slipped back to his bedroom. It was time for his weekly dose of the serum that kept his cells from deteriorating. That would also help his energy levels, and he knew Jennifer worked to find a daily dosage that wouldn't leave him worn out and feeling as if he was going through withdrawals. Right now, though, he let out a deep breath as the serum chased away the lingering weakness and hints of pain throughout his body.

A knock on his door around mid-morning pulled him out of his bubble. He'd been reading the latest genetic research, stuff he'd done before heading to Pegasus all those years ago. He'd not moved from his easy chair for anything more than to add more wood to the fire in several hours. A full cup of tea had gone cold as he delved back into the medical specialty he both loved and hated. Loved because it brought him into contact with such wonderful people as Sheppard, McKay, Teyla, Ronon, Jennifer, Amanda, Lorne, and Marie. Hated because it revealed he wasn't the real Carson Beckett and would always have to live with the knowledge that his entire belief system was flawed.

Pushing out of his chair and shoving aside those thoughts, Carson opened his door and blinked. "Margaret?"

His landlady smiled up at him. "How are you, Carson?"

He let her in when a cold gust of wind tugged on her jacket. "Fine." She smelled of Thanksgiving dinner as she looked around the room. "What brings you over here?"

"What are your plans for the day?" Her question surprised him.

"Oh, I don't know." Carson shrugged. "Not a whole lot."

"Good." She met his eyes. "Come to my house."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's Thanksgiving, and no one needs to be alone on Thanksgiving." She shrugged. "Besides, my daughter's here, and I'd love for you to meet her." She held up a hand. "I know what you said about not coming here to find a special someone, and I'll avoid making references to my hopes that you and she will one day be more than friends. But I do want you to know get to know her as a friend."

"Margaret, I'm not American." Carson smiled at her. "I really do appreciate the offer, but I don't celebrate Thanksgivin'. An' I don't want ta intrude on your time with your daughter."

She blew a raspberry at him. "Carson, she's gonna be here until Christmas, if not a bit longer. Which means we'll be getting on one another's nerves by tomorrow evening. Come over, enjoy some company, play some cards with us, and get out of this house for a bit." She gave him a sly look. "Live a little!"

He actually laughed at that, knowing he'd never be able to say no to her. Sending an indulgent look her way, he shook his head. "Okay. I'll be over in an hour."

"Good!" Margaret looked incredibly satisfied with herself. "I live just down the street from the bed and breakfast. Only two story stucco house on the street." She headed for the door and then stopped and turned to face him. "And, for the record, you keep giving women those wonderful glances, you'll turn heads whether you want to or not."

"Goodbye, Margaret," Carson sing-songed as she headed for her car with a wave. He waited to close the door behind her until she'd pulled out of his driveway and faced his house with a sigh. If he was honest, spending the day with others sounded better than spending it alone. When they'd been there, Amanda and Lorne had talked about choosing which set of parents to spend this holiday with, and Carson had known then that they'd be announcing a wedding soon. He still hadn't received the good news, but he wasn't holding his breath. Rodney and Jennifer were also stalling on making permanent plans, making Carson half-wish he was in Atlantis to light a fire under his best friend's behind.

Dumping his cold tea in the sink, Carson spent a few moments tidying his home before he grabbed a jacket. The clouds that had scudded across the sky when he awoke now covered almost all of the blue. The temperature had dropped, and he smiled at the wind as he locked his home. This weather reminded him of Scotland, and it put him at ease. In spite of the cold, children rode bikes down the sidewalk, a group of teenagers enjoyed street basketball, and two little girls had set up a tea party in the front yard a few doors down from him. He heard, "Hi, Doc!" from several different directions and waved with a smile. It was why he liked this town. Everyone knew and accepted him.

The walk across town took a bit longer as he stopped along the way to chat with a couple of his patients who had been outside playing with their grandchildren. Carson arrived at Margaret's house around an hour and a half later, ready to get out of the wind no matter how much it reminded him of Scotland. He saw a storm brewing and knew he'd need to get under cover soon. As the first cold drops landed, he knocked on Margaret's door. She opened it with a huge grin. "Carson! I was about to send out search parties!"

"Och, no need for that." Carson stepped inside and bent to kiss her cheek. "Thank you for havin' me, Margaret."

She smacked his arm. "Look at you. Being a charmer." Then, she took his jacket and hung it on the coat tree next to the door. "Come inside and make yourself at home."

She bustled into the living area, leaving Carson to follow at his leisure. He'd entered the house in a wide entryway that led to stairs. The walls were covered in family pictures, but he didn't pause to peruse them. The entryway opened into the living room and dining room. The large space had been clearly separated by the carpet's end and the tile's beginning. The walls here were also covered, but with photographs of flowers, mountains, houses, flags, churches, and any number of other subjects. Though he knew nothing about art, Carson could see these photos were fantastic. Comfortable furniture lined the walls around a brick fireplace. The large oak dining table boasted a cornucopia centerpiece with apples, oranges, nuts, and squash spilling out. Two tall golden candlesticks held candles waiting to be lit, and the table had been set for three with silverware, linen napkins and elegant china.

"Mom?" The woman's voice came from the kitchen, seeming familiar in more ways than its similarity to Margaret's. She appeared as she spoke. "How long do I bake. . .the. . . ." She blinked at him, her question momentarily forgotten as he stared into large blue eyes he hadn't seen in a year. ". . .candied yams? Carson?"

He smiled at the surprise in her tone, but part of that grin was his internal voice asking him how he'd been so clueless. No wonder he recognized Margaret. "Hello, Dr. Porter."

oOo

Alison Porter had come home. She stood in her mother's kitchen, loving the feel of being here while wondering if she'd made a mistake. The time off from the SGC would feel incredible, but she suspected she'd go insane without all of the activity. Still, when Teldy offered the leave, she couldn't resist.

Hearing her mother let their guest in the front door, she finished dumping pecans over the candied yams and smothered the top with marshmallows. It was her favorite Thanksgiving recipe, and she had yet to find someone who made them like her mother. Of course, Mom was an incredible cook, but that was beside the point. Seeing the oven ready, she called out. "Mom?" She left the candied yams on the counter as she walked into the living area, the man with her mother startling her. "How long do I bake. . .the. . . ." Alison blinked, her question forgotten. Carson Beckett smiled at her, incredible eyes crinkling at the corners as his dimple appeared. Realizing she was staring, she finished her question. ". . .candied yams? Carson?"

Instantly, her mind took her back in time. She sat next to Dr. Carson Beckett, smiling at him and seeing the same interest and that cheeky grin aimed at her. Her words were still as clear today as they'd been back then. _"__I'm __really __glad __we __got __this opportunity__to __work __together, __Carson.__"_

"_So __am __I, __Alison.__" _He'd sounded quite convincing, and the soft accent he put on her name had cemented the moment in her mind.

Even a year later, the way he'd said her name then still sent shivers down her spine. Now, his smile widened, taking her breath away with that one moment. "Hello, Dr. Porter."

Next to him, her mother's gaze ping-ponged back and forth. "Wait. You two know each other?"

"Oh, aye." Carson turned that smile to her mom, giving her a moment to breathe. "Dr. Porter and I worked together about a year ago on a special project."

Alison finally found her voice. "'Alison,' please." She stepped forward, figuring she might as well welcome him with a hug. "It's great to see you!"

Carson returned the hug, his hands warm on her waist as he pulled away a moment later. "Aye, it is." His hand dropped as he turned to Margaret. "Thank you for invitin' me."

Margaret snorted. "Like I'd do any less." She headed for the kitchen. "You two get reacquainted. I'll finish dinner." She disappeared a moment later.

Alison stood next to the dining table, at a loss for what to say now. She and Carson had dated twice when he'd been in Pegasus, but their careers had gone in opposite directions. Her work with Major Teldy's off-world team hadn't stopped, and he'd chosen to live on planets affected by the Hoffan plague. They'd agreed after their second date that it was just bad timing. Still, when she'd heard that Howell wanted to retire and that Carson was looking for a job outside of the SGC, she'd recommended him to come to her home town. She'd also asked to remain anonymous because of their past relationship.

Now, Carson looked her in the eye. "I suppose I should thank you for helpin' me get this job."

"Don't mention it." She motioned him into the living room and perched on the edge of the couch. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know." His smile returned as he apparently decided to relax. "Treating colds, doing well-child checkups, loving the work, and getting a little bored."

She laughed at his assessment of life in Esperanza, New Mexico. "You wanted to be a small-town doctor."

"Aye, though I'll admit it hasn't been without its excitement."

"I heard about Debbie." Alison sobered. "Carson, I'm really glad you were there for her. I grew up with her mom, and I can't imagine going through that."

He absently touched his lip, and she wondered at the gesture. Margaret chose that moment to appear, though, with hot wassail in matching mugs. Carson naturally included the older woman in their conversation, and Alison stared at the way he treated her mother. His charm never faded, but it changed. When he looked at her, she felt as if he were trying to see behind the smile she gave him. When he looked at Margaret, he looked almost like an indulgent son talking to his mother. And that encouraged her. Her mother needed someone looking after her as much as she liked to look after someone else.

Dinner was served about an hour later, and the trio ate with a lot of laughs. Carson had obviously told her mother that he'd lost his mother and family a few years back. Alison knew the truth, however, and her heart went out to him. He couldn't go home—not to the home he remembered—and the thought of having those memories, knowing her mother was alive, and not being able to return stung. She covered the tears with a sip of wine and pasted a smile on her face. It was one thing that had gotten under her skin about Carson Beckett. He was such a mystery, a puzzle that she wanted to figure out. That, and he had the most incredible laugh of any man she'd met.

When they did finish eating, Margaret stood and started collecting their dishes. To Alison's delight, Carson took his plate out of her hands, rose to his feet, and put his hands on Margaret's shoulders. Steering the older woman into the living room, he winked at Alison. "Oh, no ye don't." He grinned. "You cooked. I'll clean."

"_We'll_ clean," Alison said quickly, jumping to her feet. "I only made the yams."

Margaret sputtered but stopped arguing when Carson gave her a stern glance. Alison knew her mother was working to conceal a delighted laugh when the woman turned and scratched her nose. In the kitchen, she stopped next to the sink and looked up at Carson. "She's going to get you back for that, you know."

"Aye," he admitted. "But it was fun to see the surprise on her face."

He left her again for another load of dishes. For a time, they scraped leftovers into plastic bowls and loaded the dishwasher. As they worked, Alison studied him. The sparkle in his eyes hadn't faded, but she managed to push away her attraction for him to see beneath it. He was tired, dark circles making his blue eyes seem even brighter. Lines around his mouth didn't indicate that he'd spent much time smiling lately. And she caught him pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. She needed to find out what was happening, and she realized that coming home for this time might have been a good thing. It looked like Carson needed someone to talk to who had security clearance.

After the kitchen had been cleaned, the two of them found Margaret dozing in her chair. Alison grinned and glanced at Carson. "Would you like to take a walk?" she asked in a whisper.

He smiled at her mother. "Aye, that's probably a good idea."

Alison crept to the coat rack and retrieved their jackets. They snuck out the door in the kitchen without waking her mother. "Thank you for coming today. I know Mom's happy about you being here."

"It was my pleasure, Alison."

There it was again. That wonderful softening of his voice combined with that delightful Scottish accent that always made her heart melt, no matter how many months passed before she heard it again. She'd thought about Carson Beckett a lot over the last year, had wondered if she'd made a mistake in rejoining Teldy's team rather than accepting his invitation to work with him. The circumstances surrounding their initial meeting might have been awful, but she always thought about the time that Dusty had gone "to check the perimeter" with fondness. If the gunfire hadn't sounded at the right moment, she might have kissed him.

Now, she glanced over to where he smiled at the gray November sky. "How are you, Carson? And, before you answer, remember I have security clearance."

He glanced at her, surprised. After a moment, he sighed and stared straight ahead. "I'm okay," he said honestly. "There are things in my past that I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life, an' havin' those memories isn't easy."

Alison nodded. She still had nightmares of the creatures that took Alicia Vega's life, and she hadn't endured half of what he'd gone through as Michael's prisoner. "Would you like to talk about them?"

His gaze dropped to his feet, and they paused at the edge of town. It wasn't that great of a distance, and Alison let her eyes look over the horizon. The morning's storm had passed after dumping a quick rain on them right after Carson's arrival at her mother's house. But another one, this one dark and promising more than just rain, was moving in along with sunset.

Finally, Carson sighed. "The situation with Debbie stirred up a lot of memories." He shook his head. "Seein' her lyin' on the ground, in a coma after havin' a seizure, took me right back to watchin' those first patients die." His voice trailed off. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "An' it hasnae been easy."

Alison reached over and looped her arm through the crook of his elbow. "I'm so sorry, Carson."

He looked at her suddenly. "Why?" His smile made a reappearance, though it was tempered with sadness. "I'm honestly glad you're here, love. I've needed someone who knows about the Program an' everythin' to talk to for quite some time."

Alison nodded. "Then I'm glad I came." She turned to study the horizon, seeing lightning flash in the approaching storm. "Maybe we should get back."

"Aye, maybe you're right."

They walked at a fast clip, the wind at their backs blowing Alison's hair into her face. The temperature dropped significantly, and Carson shielded her from the first of the raindrops as they gained the front door of her home. Once inside, they found Margaret in the kitchen, cutting a pumpkin pie as coffee brewed. She poked her head out as they shed their jackets. "I knew you two would be back soon."

Carson changed immediately, all traces of his emotional battle with Michael's memory fading as he spoke with Margaret. Alison watched, already starting to build some barriers around her heart. She hadn't come home to Esperanza to fall in love with a man who had captured her attention a year ago. She'd come to spend the time with her mother. However, when she heard Margaret invite him to the tea and coffee house to decorate for Christmas on Monday evening, she let out a deep breath. She might not have a choice in the matter.

Moving to the table as Carson set out the cards like her mother had asked, Alison admitted something to herself. When it came to Carson Beckett, she had no defense against his charm and smile. She just hoped she could leave Esperanza with her heart intact.

~TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Carson hung up the phone the day after Thanksgiving, completely flabbergasted. When he'd come to the office, he'd planned to figure out exactly what he was going to do about the missing medications in his pharmacy. He knew he should go to the sheriff and report the theft, but he hesitated. He had no idea why beyond the thought that he wasn't from around here. If anyone was suspected, it would likely be him. And he didn't need or want an investigation into his past.

Then, as he resigned himself to make the call, his phone rang. Wondering if he'd imagined it, he'd answered with a business-like tone. It was the University of New Mexico, and their genetics professor wanted him to take the place of a guest lecturer who had suddenly canceled on them. The man said he'd been stunned to learn that Dr. Carson Beckett had moved to New Mexico, and Carson had listened with a sheepish smile. By the time he hung up the phone, he'd accepted the invitation and now wondered how he was supposed to get to Albuquerque by the end of the week.

A knock on his door brought his head up. Katie had obviously arrived, and she peeked into his office. Carson appreciated that she at least respected the space he'd designated as his own, and he often made sure the door was closed just to keep her away. Today, she wore another snug blouse, accentuated by a light jacket that didn't close all the way in the front, and another short skirt. At least she wasn't wearing platform heels like she had a few days ago. Carson had watched her then as she sashayed around the office and mentally prepared for treating a broken ankle once she fell. Of course, Katie would have loved that.

Realizing he couldn't get out of this, he waved her into the room. "Good morning." He reached for a file and opened it just to make it look like he was busy.

Katie walked across the room and dropped into the chair directly across from him. She leaned forward, not so much that she appeared too eager but just enough that he got an eyeful if he glanced up. "How are you doing, Carson?"

In spite of his determination to not give her any encouragement, he glanced up at her. His eyes met hers, however, and stayed on her face. "I'm fine, Katie. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged and sat back, adjusting herself so that she was both comfortable and still seductive. "I wondered." She gave him a sly look. "You're not sleeping well, and I didn't know if there was something you wanted to talk about."

_Aye, __an' __like __I'd __be __talkin' __about __it __with __you._ He kept that thought to himself and closed the file with a sigh. "No, can't say there is."

She gave him a look that said she knew he was putting her off. "Carson. You and I both know you're not handling this thing with Debbie well. You've put in hours in that pharmacy doing inventory and, now that you're done, you've said nothing about when it'll open up again."

"I never said anything about bein' done." Carson frowned, trying to remember who had been around when he'd left on Wednesday. He might have mentioned something to Jorge that morning when he arrived, but he hadn't thought Katie was around then.

She shrugged. "I heard you talking to Jorge when I got here this morning."

"Ah." He nodded. "Yes, well, I'm finished inventorying the medications, but I have not made a decision as to when the dispensary will open again. I've still got the rest of the merchandise to inventory as well."

She tried to look coy. "You know, we'd be willing to help you if you'd just ask."

"Asking has nothin' ta do with it, Katie." Carson resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "If I allow you to inventory something, then you'll come under suspicion should there be anything missing. If I do it, the only person suspect is me. Not to mention my own peace of mind."

"You think I'd try to steal something from you, Carson?" She put a hand over her heart. "I'm hurt!"

This time, he really did snort at that. "I'm sure you are, Katie." The phone rang right then, rescuing him. He excused himself and picked it up, grateful that it was simply one of his elderly patients asking a quick question about her blood pressure medication. He heard voices in the background and suspected that visiting family had gotten on her nerves. By the time he finished with the call, Katie had left him alone. He got up and closed his office door, taking a few moments to pinch the bridge of his nose. Several words described Katie, but the most accurate one was "trouble."

By that afternoon, Carson was more than happy to see Katie leave for her second job. He watched her sashay off toward the cafe and wondered why he'd thought it a good idea to hire her. He'd had various assistants in the past, and she got on his nerves worse than any of the others.

Jorge ambled past and caught the relieved expression that crossed his face. "You okay, Doc?"

Carson glanced up. "Aye." He gave the other man a rueful grin. "I'm just wonderin' if I made a mistake in hirin' a receptionist."

"Who? Katie?" Jorge jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "She's a handful alright. But she's good at her job."

"It's not her job I'm concerned about." Carson shook his head. "Have a good evening, Jorge."

"You, too, Doc." Jorge left the clinic then, and Carson headed back to his office to listen to the silence.

He was bored. As he sank into his office chair, he took a few moments to look around and let that realization settle in. Back in Pegasus, he always had some sort of illness or injury to treat, research to do, Rodney to argue with, or Sheppard to give him gray hair. Here, he might see one patient a day. It was a good thing he could afford to live off of his savings account for a while, but days like this left him longing to head through the Stargate again just for something to do.

Deciding that he had nothing better to do, he pulled out his secure computer for the SGC and accessed his research notes. He had a guest lecture to prepare for, and he figured he might as well get a head start. He'd work out transportation later.

oOo

The day after Thanksgiving at Porter's Tea and Coffee House left Alison exhausted. Sure, she dodged bullets, Wraith stunners, and—more recently—Zat guns on a regular basis, but she always had adrenaline to help her get through that. Here, she just had coffee. And she'd drank too much of that earlier today with her mother over breakfast. Margaret had mentioned that Carson tended to appear between ten and noon, but he hadn't made an appearance at all. Alison was both relieved and disappointed by that.

Seeing him yesterday, while absolutely surprising, was wonderful. He'd been the same charming person he was a year ago when they'd met, but circumstances had changed. This time, he was putting down roots, working at a stable job, and apparently loving life in her tiny home town. Alison was the one working off world in combat situations. She was only home for a month, maybe six weeks. Did she even have the right to be thinking about Carson as someone more than just a friend?

He was obviously still dealing with his own demons. Alison had seen the shadows in his eyes, the way his smile faltered occasionally, and the exhaustion he hid from her mother. It was so different from the way he'd been in Pegasus, and she suspected being back on Earth had triggered the emotional reaction. While she wasn't a psychologist by any stretch of the imagination, she knew that being so close—galactically speaking—to Scotland but still being unable to return had to weigh on him. She wanted to help him even though she honestly had no idea how.

Tired of her thoughts and ready to be out of the tea house, she grabbed the broom and headed out the front door. They'd stayed busy as people came in for a final cup of coffee before hitting the road to home, shopping, or any number of destinations. The front sidewalk could use a bit of TLC, and she wanted the cold air on her face to help her focus on what was really important. And that wasn't worrying about Carson Beckett.

The temperature had dropped considerably during the night and had stayed down all through the day. Now, after sunset, Alison shivered in the cold as she began sweeping around wrought iron patio furniture that her mother kept out for the summer months. Leaves and other debris had been blown into corners, and she enjoyed the mindless task of cleaning the front walk.

Movement down the street caught her eye. She glanced up in time to see Carson locking the front door of the clinic. She'd noticed light coming from inside a while ago and was surprised when he shoved his hands in his pockets, ducked his head against the wind that kicked up suddenly, and started walking toward the north side of town. He looked so lonely with his shoulders hunched against the cold that she couldn't ignore him. Taking the broom back inside, she untied the black apron she'd worn for the day and found her mother in the office. "Mom?"

Margaret looked up. "Ali, what's wrong?"

Alison jabbed a finger over her shoulder. "Mind if I borrow the car?"

"Of course not." Margaret reached for her purse and dug out the keys. "I've got another couple of hours of work here anyway. What's going on?"

Alison smiled. "Just going to give Carson a ride home."

"Take your time." Margaret turned back to the computer screen. "I've got a ton of ordering to do, and then I've got some accounting work to finish."

Alison nodded and headed out the back door. She found her mother's car where it was typically parked and slid inside. The heater would take a bit to warm, but it would be better than walking in this cold. Carefully backing out of the parking space, she drove down the route that Carson had taken. Based on what he'd said the night before, she figured he'd take the most direct route to her mother's rental property.

Just as she'd suspected, he'd only made it about a quarter of the way home. The car engine had finally warmed enough for the heater to blow mediocre heat from the vents, and Alison pulled to a stop next to him. She leaned across the front seat and rolled down the window as Carson spotted her. "Care for a ride?"

He smiled at her. "I'd love a ride." He opened the car door and slid inside. "Thank you, Alison."

"Don't mention it." She pulled away from the curb. "It's a bit cold to be walking."

"Aye." He rubbed his hands together. "I've thought about buying a car, but I'm not too confident in my ability to stay on the right side of the road."

She glanced at him, taking a moment to remember that people drove on the _left_ side of the road in Scotland. Then, she grinned. "And, in Pegasus, we don't have to worry about traffic laws when flying a Jumper."

"Aye," he said again, this time with a laugh. "How are you?"

"Oh, tired." She turned into his driveway, not really wanting their conversation to end. "I'm not used to working like that. It's different, not as hard, but still tiring when you're accustomed to something else."

"I imagine it is." He pulled his keys out of his pocket and looked at her for a long moment. "Would you like to come inside? I'll make some tea, and you can warm up for a bit."

Alison met his eyes and easily read them in spite of the darkness. His question wasn't motivated by anything other than loneliness. "I'd love to, Carson."

The smile he gave her as he climbed from the car told her that she'd made the right decision. Turning off the ignition, she followed him to the front door. The house was cool, but the heater had managed to keep the chill out. Carson switched on lights as he moved through the home, leaving Alison to make her way at her leisure. He nudged up the thermostat on the heater and headed into the kitchen, rubbing his hands as he did so. Alison moved through the living room, taking in the changes.

The small house had always held a special charm, though Alison had been unable to pinpoint what about it intrigued her. Now, however, touches of life warmed the space. The walls were still plain white, but a huge painting broke the biggest one with a breathtaking panorama of the Golden Gate Bridge. The warm reds of the bridge, golden rays of the sunshine, and general brightness blended well with the brown furniture. A television hung above the fireplace, and table lamps were the only things other than medical journals on the end tables. Alison stood in front of the painting, studying it and recognizing the unusual perspective.

"Major Lorne brought that when he an' the team visited for Halloween." Alison turned at Carson's voice.

She smiled. "It's beautiful."

"Aye." Carson grinned, clearly thinking about that visit. "We allowed Ronon to pass out Halloween candy."

She snickered. "That had to be fun."

"Och, it was!" He laughed as well. "One lad asked, 'Dude, are you, like, a surfer dude or something?'"

Alison couldn't help it. Hearing his Scottish accent combine with an affected surfer's accent brought out a full belly laugh. He'd apparently meant to do so because he grinned as if his entire job was complete. Alison finally got a hold on her giggles. "And what did Ronon say?"

"'I'm Satedan,'" Carson said in a very good imitation of the big man. "Colonel Sheppard saved him by adding that it was an alien from Wormhole X-Treme."

"Quick thinking."

"Aye." He would have said more, but the tea kettle chose that moment to scream from the stove. Alison watched him move back into the kitchen to pour the boiling water over tea bags that he'd placed in a teapot on the counter. He moved easily in the kitchen, knowing where everything was located without looking. It fascinated her, and she leaned on the breakfast bar to simply admire his movement. He glanced up a moment later and gave her an inscrutable look. "How have you been, Alison?"

The question, while vague, was very pointed. She let out a deep breath. "I'm good. Really." Meeting his eyes, she smiled. "It was hard for a bit after losing Alicia. Major Teldy chose a new team member, but it wasn't the same. It took a while for us to gel."

"Who did the major choose?"

"Lieutenant Adam Martin." She grinned. "I feel kinda sorry for him being the only guy on a team full of girls."

Carson snickered again, and she remembered the sheepish expressions he and Sheppard had worn when they realized the entire team was comprised of women. "I'm sure he's well protected with Sergeant Mehra around."

"Oh, she got a promotion. She's now _Staff_ Sergeant Mehra." Alison shook her head. "She doesn't let us forget it, either."

"I'm sure she doesn't." He reached for two mugs and began pouring tea while glancing at her. "She's a character, that one."

Remembering how he'd said that about Dusty the first time they'd met, Alison knew she needed to turn the subject away from work. Otherwise, she'd wind up losing her heart all over again. "How about you, Carson? I know we talked a bit yesterday, but we were also cut a bit short."

"I'm. . . ." He sighed. "Honestly, I'm fed up."

Alison blinked at the vehement words. "What happened?"

"I hired a receptionist for the clinic who seems to think it's her personal mission to. . . ." He flushed and turned away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk about people you've known all your life like this."

"You're talking about Katie, aren't you?"

He gave her a sheepish grin. "She's really great at her job, but I just don't know how to break it to her that I'm _not_ interested. I thought I could tough it out, let her realize that she's not going to get anything other than a decent paycheck out of me, but it is really startin' to annoy me."

"Talk with her." Alison shrugged. "From a woman's perspective, we like to simply be told one way or the other. It might hurt our feelings, but we're usually very understanding—especially if you've not given her any indication that you'd be interested in her."

"I just might if it continues." He sighed. "As it is, I've got to have a talk with her about appropriate office attire."

He looked so chagrined that Alison barely kept her laugh from escaping. He'd always been oblivious to his own appearance, namely how attractive he was to the ladies, that it was amusing to see him wondering how to get rid of one of said ladies. Instead of laughing, Alison took a sip of tea and hoped for a serious expression. "I'm sure you'll manage it well, Carson."

He glanced over and actually laughed. "You have a terrible poker face, Dr. Porter."

Alison allowed her grin to show. "You haven't seen me play poker, Dr. Beckett. So how would you know?"

"Is that a challenge, love?"

"Maybe."

The word hung between them for a moment, and Alison couldn't believe she'd started flirting with the man. Still, it felt good to have someone in this town that she could be absolutely honest with about her job and the stresses she faced. Though they'd only talked briefly about work, that little bit left her feeling lighter than she had in days. She finished her tea and straightened. "I should get back to the coffee house."

Carson accepted her cup and walked her to the door. "Thank you for the ride."

"Don't mention it." She picked up her jacket from where it was draped over the back of his couch and hesitated for a moment. "Carson?"

He stood next to the door, every inch the perfect host as he studied her. "What is it, love?"

It was the second time in a short while that he'd used that particular endearment with her. Alison pushed aside how it made her feel and reminded herself that he likely talked to all of the ladies like that. It didn't mean a thing. She pulled her mind from those thoughts and focused on what she'd wanted to ask. "My mom wants me to go to church with her on Sunday. I know it's probably not your thing, and it's not mine, either. But I don't want to be the only visitor there."

"I'd love to go," he said immediately. When she gave him a disbelieving look, he put a hand on her elbow. "Honestly. I've not really thought about attendin' but I'm willin' to give it a try. Especially since it'll help make your mother happy."

Alison smiled at that and pulled on her jacket. "Thank you, Carson."

"You're welcome." He opened the door for her and turned on the porch light. "I'll see you on Sunday."

She waved as she climbed back in the car and drove away. As she reached the coffee house, she tried to forget how incredibly lonely he'd looked standing in that doorway. It might have been his choice to live in this town, but she wanted to make it a better place for him than just solitude. And, based on the way he'd smiled while she'd been in his home, he'd loved the company as well.

Margaret was waiting for her, reading a book she'd tucked in a corner of her desk for slow days. "How's Carson?"

Alison flushed. "He's fine, Mom." She rolled her eyes. "Besides, what are you doing done so early? You said you had a couple hours of work to do, and I've barely been gone for one."

Margaret shrugged. "I finished the important stuff, and the other can wait until tomorrow or Sunday." She stood and looked her daughter in the eyes. "For the record, Ali, I'm not going to have a problem if you and Carson start something while you're here."

"Mom!"

"Alright, I got it." Margaret waved a hand. "Now, let's go home. I'm tired."

Alison shook her head at her mother's retreating back and chuckled. She might be attracted to Carson, but having her mother point it out made it worse. Determined to keep things between them friendly, she drove her mother home and retired early just so that she could get her thoughts sorted out before seeing him again on Sunday morning.

~TBC


	10. Chapter 10

_Mist __swirled __around __him __as __he __stumbled __through __it. __The __weapon __in __his __hand __was __useless __in __this __weather __since __he __couldn't __get __a __bead __on __the __creatures __following __him. __And __he __knew __they __were __following __him. __As __he __stopped __to __try __to __catch __his __breath, __he __wrapped __a __hand __around __the __decrepit __post __of __a __market __stall __and __ignored __the __foul __stench __of __the __fog. __If __he __thought __about __it, __it __would __make __his __eyes __water __and __his __nose __run. _Mind over matter, _he __reminded __himself __as __he __ran __on._

_Then, he tripped. The "oomph" that escaped drew the attention of the creatures, and he started crawling. Anything to get away from them, to get to safety. He'd come out here with the intention of finding Sergeant Mehra, not getting lost. Yet, he'd gone and proven her point: that he should have stayed in the house with Alison._

_Alison. What was she doing right now? Had those creatures found her? Even though he'd only known her for a couple of hours, he realized he'd either have to get to know her better or find some way to ignore her. Backing into a wall, he looked around, freezing in place when he heard the clicking noise those creatures made. Turning slowly to look over his left shoulder, he watched a creature crawl down the wall to stop next to him. He held his breath, partially because of the stench the creature made and partially because he was too afraid to breathe. The creature—with webs over its eyes and vampire-like teeth—exuded the mist from gills in its neck. Apparently dissatisfied with what it had found, it crawled away._

_He took a deep breath. It was safe. . .relatively. If he could just find his way back to the house, he'd be okay._

_His radio came to life suddenly, the static breaking the silence and drawing the attention of the creature._

Carson woke on Sunday morning to the memory of P90 fire and Dusty's irritated instructions to move. He chuckled, thinking that, out of all of his memories, it was one of the more tame ones. At least no one had died in his arms during that mission. And he'd been fortunate enough to not be around when Alicia Vega was killed. _Small __comfort,_ he thought wryly as he rose and showered.

After breakfast, he pulled on a sport coat and headed out the door. The day was warming up, one of the quirks of New Mexico weather, and he quite enjoyed the walk to Esperanza's church. Alison met him outside along with her mother, and he escorted the two ladies inside as he reminded himself that he'd not come to Esperanza to fall in love. But Alison looked so lovely in a blue business suit. Her eyes sparkled at him, and he shook his head. He was fooling himself by thinking he could simply be her friend, and he knew it.

Two hours later, however, Alison's blue eyes and laugh were the furthest thing from his mind. He had been honest when he'd told her that he hadn't thought too much about church. But, truth be told, he'd avoided thoughts of spirituality altogether since coming out of the stasis pod. The questions were just too great, and he hadn't wanted to think about them.

Did he even _have_ a soul? That one question encompassed so much that Carson barely noticed when the congregation stood for the final prayer. He managed to recover well, but his mind whirled with thoughts he'd wanted to avoid. He wasn't human—not like these people were human. He'd been created in a Wraith lab, by a Wraith, and for a Wraith to exploit his knowledge. What right did he have to pray to a God who created humanity? Had he been truly human, he likely wouldn't have considered these questions, but his unique circumstances made it impossible to ignore.

Church was dismissed before he figured out an answer. Margaret invited him to Sunday dinner, and Carson accepted just to avoid being alone. He did not want to think about his quandary, and explaining it to Margaret would be too difficult. How was he supposed to explain that he was a clone when Earth had not developed to the stage of cloning human beings? Alison might have understood, but he kept his thoughts to himself, covering them with laughter and a smile that he knew Alison found irresistible.

Monday morning, he'd managed to shove all the questions back into the box he'd created for them nearly two years ago. His work in Pegasus had given his life meaning, and he'd found some level of fulfillment by working here in Esperanza. He didn't need much more in his life.

Carson snorted as he set his coffee on his desk and shed his coat. He'd stopped in to the coffee house and ordered a cup of coffee from Alison. She had barely turned to pour the order when Margaret snatched the cup from her daughter's hand. The look of mock irritation on Alison's face had made him laugh, and he grinned now as he thought about the mother-daughter duo. He'd seen hints of Alison's wry personality shortly after they'd met, and seeing it with her mother was just wonderful. It reminded him of how his sisters treated his mum, though he definitely did _not_ look at Alison as a sister.

Jorge knocked on the door before he could do much more than take another sip of his coffee. "Got a moment, Doc?"

"Aye, come in." Carson frowned when the nurse closed the door behind himself. "What's on your mind?"

"A lot." Jorge motioned to the couch, looking nervous but in no way intimidated by "the boss." "Have you made a decision about the pharmacy?"

Carson sighed as he ran a hand over his face. What was it with this fascination with the pharmacy? "No, I haven't. Not yet, at least. I've still got a bit of inventory left to do, but I can say that I'll likely be going to the sheriff when I'm done."

Jorge nodded sagely. "I'm here to ask you not to."

Carson blinked. "I'm sorry?" he asked in an unconscious and very good imitation of Rodney McKay's outraged tone.

Jorge didn't sigh or show any sign of irritation. Instead, he pulled his wallet out of his pocket, opened it, and handed it to Carson. The doctor blinked at the official badge and identification card. Jorge met his eyes. "Agent Jorge Dominguez, Drug Enforcement Agency."

Carson felt for his office chair and made sure it didn't roll away when he sat down. "You're undercover?"

"Yeah." Jorge shrugged. "I have been for the last year. You see, Doc, I've been trying to find the local supplier for the drugs that run through this area. Documented drug sales have happened in your pharmacy, as well as several other places in town. We know someone is providing the area, but we also know that a large amount of drugs runs right through this little town. It's a staging point for the west coast. We've been unable to identify the source so far, and you going to the sheriff would not be a good thing."

"Because I'd blow your investigation?"

"Among other things." Jorge didn't back down at Carson's glare. "Quite frankly, we don't know if the sheriff is involved, hence why we've not been able to make headway for a year. Though, I have to admit that Debbie Engleside's overdose was both a blessing and a curse. We never want to see someone go through that, but it did give us an avenue to investigate."

The shock had started to wear off, leaving Carson growing angry at the implications. "An' ye think I've been involved in this, do ye?"

Jorge snickered at that. "Actually, Doc, you're one person we _know_ isn't involved. When you came to town, I thought you might be involved. After all, why would a doctor of your caliber come to little Esperanza? Then, I did a background check."

Carson didn't say anything. He just dropped his head into his hand.

"Yeah," Jorge said. "Listen, I don't know what you're into, and, quite frankly, I don't _want_ to know what you're into. But I know it's big. And I know you're able to handle yourself in stressful situations."

For a moment, Carson wanted to rant at the man. Of _course_ he could handle himself in stressful situations. He'd been in the bloody Pegasus galaxy for years, had fought against some of the most horrible creatures a human bein' could face, an' had come out on top. He couldn't say any of this to Jorge, though, and simply let out a deep sigh. "What do you need?"

"Was there anything missing in the pharmacy?"

"Aye." Carson reached for his coffee, pausing long enough to take a sip. "I'm missin' several bottles of oxycodone, as well as a full bottle of Desoxyn."

Jorge winced. "We suspected as much." He shook his head. "When Doc Howell was here, I suspected him. But the drug activity hasn't stopped since he retired, and we've pretty well figured out he was just as innocent as you are. But we're just not sure how deep into this little community it goes. I'm here to try to find the supplier."

Carson glanced up suddenly. "You suspect more people than just the sheriff."

"Relax, Doc." Jorge gave him a sly grin. "Your friend, Mrs. Porter, and her daughter have been cleared. In fact, we got the same reaction on our background check of Alison Porter that we got with you."

"I'm certain you did." Carson grinned. "She an' I worked in the same outfit when I was doin' classified work."

Jorge's eyebrows touched his hairline. "The cute brunette helpin' Mrs. Porter? She's in the military?"

"No, lad." Carson chuckled. "She's a civilian contractor, just like I used to be." He narrowed his eyes. "Why? Are ye afraid she might shoot ye if ye ask her out?"

"No. My wife would kill me." Jorge's grin returned. "But I'm sure Alison would say yes if you asked her."

Carson waved a hand at him, burying the urge to ask Jorge if there was any other information he needed to know. "Fine. I'll keep my findings to myself for now." He brought the subject back to the matter at hand. "Do you want me to open the pharmacy again?"

Jorge took a moment to consider that. "Are you finished with your inventory?"

"Aye." Carson sighed. "I can delay for a few more days to finish inventorying the merchandise, but all the medications are done. I would finish tonight, but I've got plans after work."

"Finish your inventory, Doc." Jorge stood. "And let me know if you find anything else. I don't know how much I'll be able to share with you, but you needed to know what was happening. Had you gone to the sheriff. . . ."

Carson nodded. "I understand, lad." He waved to Jorge as the man closed his office door. The DEA was investigating the town he'd found so ideal. Why wasn't he more surprised at that? And what was he going to do now?

oOo

Katie left the Esperanza Cafe after closing at seven that night, cursing her boss for her sore feet. She honestly didn't mind working for Carson. After all, the Scottish doctor was the hottest man in town, but she would have quit her job at the cafe if she'd had the option. She didn't, so she put up with the smell of grease in her hair and throbbing feet. One of the men there—Doug Engleside's foreman—had offered to take her home, and Katie had hesitated. The implication was that he'd stay around for an hour or two, leave some cash on her bedside table, and take his leave once he'd been satisfied. For the first time in a long time, Katie had said no.

She was honestly tired of that portion of her lifestyle. Being known as the town bike left a lot to be desired since every man around looked at her as if they were trying to undress her. Well, every man save Carson Beckett. It was one reason she was so drawn to him. No matter what she did to capture his attention, he seemed oblivious. It made her want to try harder, but she honestly wasn't sure what else to do besides stripping down in his office and waiting for him. And, even then, he just might send her on her way. Carson was a true gentleman, and her normal tricks for turning heads didn't work with him.

Motion in the window of Porter's Tea and Coffee house caught her attention. The coffee house had closed an hour ago, but the golden light intrigued Katie. She loved that place, and she often stopped in there to absorb the peace of it. Margaret Porter knew how to create a warm environment with honey-gold walls punctuated by tasteful artwork and her late husband's photography. Flowers sat on each table, and the general feel of a French cafe couldn't be denied.

Tonight, however, a Christmas tree brightened the front window with its evenly-sprinkled white lights. Red and gold ornaments, as well as icicles of various sizes, dripped off the branches facing the front. Katie smiled as she walked across the street to study the enchanting sight. She loved Christmas and always would. It awakened the child inside of her, made her think of innocent days, and stirred the desire to do something right. She'd never be the little girl that longed for a white Christmas again, but she liked to pretend she was as the holiday grew closer.

Inside the cafe, Carson held another red ornament as he laughed, bending at the waist. Katie's smile widened until she saw the other person with him. Alison Porter also laughed with Carson, and he had his hand on her elbow in a possessive yet comfortable manner. Something he said sent her into gales of laughter that Katie heard from outside, and she sighed. She always felt like the poor child looking into the warm, happy home. Tonight was no different.

Unable to watch them any longer, Katie walked on down the sidewalk, trying to forget the happy sparkle in Carson's eyes as he'd looked at Alison. She wanted that, wanted him to look at _her_ like that, and didn't know how to get it. Everything she'd tried thus far hadn't helped, so she decided that she'd just have to find a different tactic.

Once home, she stood in front of her closet and debated her options. Carson Beckett would be hers. She was certain of it. She just had to find a way to turn his attention away from Alison long enough to realize who waited for him every day that she went to the office.

oOo

_Oh, the weather outside is frightful,  
><em>_But the fire is so delightful.  
><em>_Since we have no place to go,  
><em>_Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!_

The Christmas music jingled through the coffee house as Alison adjusted the topper on the Christmas tree. Carson stood warily behind her, half ready to catch her and also giving her pointers on getting it to sit up straight. A few moments ago, she'd been reaching for a high branch and had lost her balance, nearly bringing herself, the Christmas tree, and Carson down with her. It had been several tense moments, but the humor hit both of them at the same moment. As Carson had steadied Alison, they'd burst into laughter.

It felt great to laugh. He had forgotten how much a family atmosphere meant to him, and he loved the warmth in this place. Part of it had to do with Margaret's tasteful decorations in the coffee house, but Carson knew he was drawn by the woman now carefully stepping down from the chair she'd used as a stool. He reached out and gently lifted her down, his hands warm on her waist as she smiled up at him. Her gaze lingered on his for a moment too long, and he knew she felt the same drawing. It was as if they were destined to share some sort of relationship no matter what they wanted. And, quite frankly, Carson had grown tired of his solitary existence.

He'd arrived at the coffee house shortly after six that evening to find Alison wrestling the bottom third of a pre-lit Christmas tree into the base. Carson had taken over without asking, and Margaret had bluntly instructed them to decorate the front window while she made dinner. Then, she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two to laugh and joke while hanging ornaments on branches punctuated with white lights.

"It's beautiful, Carson," Alison said softly.

"Aye," he agreed just as softly as the CD switched to "White Christmas." The tree took up most of the front window, and wrapped boxes waited to be stacked underneath it, but he wasn't keen on breaking into this moment. In spite of not knowing her well, he realized that Alison was about quiet moments shared and memories made. It was so different from the memories he had of six siblings, noise, and boisterous teasing, but it was no less powerful.

Margaret cleared her throat from behind them. "Dinner's ready if you two are done staring."

Thankful that he'd actually been lost in his memories of Scotland and happier days and not staring at Alison, Carson turned from studying the Christmas tree to see that Margaret had set their evening meal on the table. The thick stew would likely be served the next day, but it filled the cafe with its rich aroma and made his stomach growl. Alison grinned at him, telling him she'd heard, and he held her chair before turning to scowl at Margaret. The older woman had already settled rather than waiting for him, and he lightly teased her as he also sat down.

The trio laughed as they talked, and Margaret took the time to gently prod Carson about his life in Scotland. She only knew that his mother had passed a few months back, not that he'd decided to leave his family in peace following the death of the original Carson Beckett. He'd considered taking up the SGC's offer of a reunion, but he knew it would create too many questions. After all, his mum would wonder what poor soul had been buried in her son's place, and Carson wasn't sure he could handle pretending that the body wasn't that of his progenitor, for lack of a better term.

Now, though, he willingly shared memories of Christmases past, happy to have someone care enough to think about them. Not that his friends in Atlantis hadn't cared. They'd been willing to listen to him any time he'd wanted to talk, but he hadn't been at peace enough to share. Here, in Esperanza, he could truly let go and allow himself to remember.

After they finished the stew and had spent some time talking, Margaret bustled back into the kitchen and carried out a freshly made pie. "Now, I don't know if this is quite right as it's the first time I've ever used the recipe, but I hope you'll enjoy it." She set it in front of the pair at the table and grinned at Carson. "I did a bit of research and thought an apple butterscotch pie might be the thing to have in the coffee house for Christmas."

Carson blinked and actually laughed. "Margaret, this is wonderful! I'm sure of it!"

She dimpled as she cut the first slice and set it in front of Carson. He picked up his fork and ate the first bite while she served Alison but eyed him. The crisp apples contrasted with the butterscotch, and he couldn't help but smile at the unique flavor. Alison raised an eyebrow as she ate the first bite and then blinked. "Mom! This is _fantastic_!"

Margaret plopped into her seat. "Good!" She shrugged. "I thought adding some Scottish charm to our coffee house couldn't hurt."

Carson felt his neck heat at the words. "Well, I'm glad ye did, Margaret. Like Alison said, it's fantastic."

Margaret patted his hand at the compliment and ate her own serving. The three didn't say a lot as they enjoyed the pie, but it was that quiet companionship that made Carson think of how different his life was now. Before, he'd always traveled from planet to planet, forming friendships with people who would eventually be left behind. Here, he could put down roots. Although he wrestled with adjusting to the much slower pace of the small town, he loved every minute of it. Mostly, anyway. Knowing that a drug ring operated under the cover of Esperanza's small-town charm dimmed some of that attraction.

Finally, Margaret noticed Carson's weary expression and instructed Alison to take him home. Carson protested as expected, but he was grateful for the ride. He had considered his options about transportation later that week and had still come up with nothing beyond purchasing his own vehicle. For some reason, he hesitated. Like the last time she'd given him a ride, he invited Alison inside and enjoyed the feel of having someone other than himself in his home. He wasn't ready to be alone just yet.

As Alison shed her coat and draped it over the back of the couch, Carson broached the subject he'd kept quiet while around Margaret. "Jorge stopped in my office today."

Alison obviously recognized the serious tone in his voice. Her face took on that same determined expression she'd worn when he first met her. "Oh?"

"Aye." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's undercover DEA," he said in a low voice.

Alison blinked. "Excuse me?" When he nodded, she glanced around. "And he told you why?"

"Because I was about to call the sheriff about the missin' medications in the pharmacy." Carson dropped into the couch, and she followed suit. "I considered not tellin' you, but he told me that background checks had cleared you and your mum."

She snorted at that. "As if a DEA background check could get anything on either of us." She sat up suddenly. "Wait. Did he suspect you?"

"No." Carson leaned forward. "Be careful when you're out after dark, love. This honestly changed how I look at this town."

She nodded with a smile. "Don't worry, Carson."

"I know ye can handle yourself, but humor me," he said softly. "Please."

"Okay." She looked around. "Wow. I never thought I'd learn that about my home town."

"I know what you mean." For a moment, his mind went back to that tiny cottage in the village, where he'd said the same thing to Alison but had meant something totally different. Then, she'd mentioned feeling like she was studying for her midterms. That moment was when his attraction for her moved beyond the physical into wanting to know more about her.

Finally, she stood with a sigh. "I should get back. Mom pulled Dad's car out of storage so I could use hers while I'm here, but I know she'll be waiting."

"Aye." Carson walked her to the door. "Thank you for everything, Alison."

"You're welcome." She hesitated on his front porch, seemingly not ready to leave, before walking to the car. Carson waved when she lifted a hand in farewell and closed the door with a weary smile. Yes, his conversation with Jorge had shaken him, but he had wonderful friends. He could do far worse.

~TBC


	11. Chapter 11

"Good morning, Dr. Beckett." Katie's business-like greeting pulled Carson's head up from where he'd been discussing a patient chart with Jorge. Even though he was undercover DEA, the man knew his stuff. Carson wondered exactly how he had all this knowledge and realized he must really be a nurse for him to do this job so well.

"Good morning, Katie," Carson said absently as she walked past him. Today, she wore a pair of black slacks with a ruffled white blouse under a tan wool coat and red scarf. Her heeled boots clattered on the tile floor, but she didn't look back at the two men as she disappeared into the front of the clinic.

"Huh," Jorge said, surprised. "That was different."

"Aye," Carson agreed. Normally, Katie hung around the two, letting her eyes linger on Carson for too long. Today, she simply ignored him. The surprise faded as he realized he might not have to sit down and talk with her. He'd been working to figure out just how to do that in such a way that she wouldn't use the private meeting to her advantage. Giving the patient file back to Jorge, he turned for his office.

"Hey, Doc?" Jorge's voice stopped him. "Have you decided when you'll re-open the pharmacy?"

"Today," Carson said firmly. "I thought about delayin', but there's really no need. I'll just cover fillin' the prescriptions for the foreseeable future."

Jorge nodded. "Good to know." He went about his business, leaving Carson to the silence.

In his office, Carson dropped into his chair and sighed. He needed to ask Alison about transportation to Albuquerque in two days, and he also needed to complete the notes on his lecture. He'd chose to talk about the influence of genetics in how a person responded to medications, and he was working his experiences in the Pegasus galaxy into the lecture without breaking classifications. After all, his research on the Hoffan plague applied to Earth science. He just needed to transition it from "alien" to "domestic." Though, as he thought about it, calling anything related to Earth "domestic" seemed a bit unusual.

"Dr. Beckett?" Katie's voice pulled him out of his work-induced bubble, and he glanced up to see her waiting in the office door, standing up straight as opposed to leaning over. Her ruffled blouse was still low-cut, but she'd done nothing else to draw his attention. "You received a package."

Carson accepted the box and glanced at the return address. "Oh, thank you, dear." He smiled at her. "That's my insulin." While he owned his own pharmacy, he hoped no one would think it strange that he'd ordered his medication from another source. He really didn't want to come up with a cover story for that!

She nodded once and left him alone. Carson stared after her, perplexed. Normally, he wouldn't have noticed any woman—save maybe Alison. But something had changed between yesterday and today. It was as if Katie had suddenly been replaced with a creature who didn't know how she truly acted. And, of course, it was entirely possible. Working to divorce his mind from suspicions related to the Pegasus galaxy, he turned back to his research.

When lunch finally arrived, he gratefully took the break and headed down the street to the coffee house. It was time to ask someone for a favor.

oOo

Alison glanced up as the bell over the door jingled. She was ready for a break, to sit down and rest her feet. Standing in one place for a long period of time was totally different from moving through alien terrain and running for her life. Though, since returning to the Milky Way, she hadn't done much of the latter as most of her team's assignments had been to meet-and-greets with various planets as the SGC decided what to do with Atlantis. She quite liked the slow pace of a barista in her mother's coffee house, but her body was itching for a good work out that only an off-world mission would provide.

Seeing Carson enter the coffee house with a file tucked under his arm and his smile in place seemed like a good enough reason to take a break. Her mother appeared from the kitchen and gave her daughter a sly look. "Go. I'll cover the front for a while."

"Thanks, Mom." Alison finished making the coffee her current customer had ordered and quickly pulled out two plates. Carson had come in that morning for coffee, and Alison already knew what he'd order. Her mother had given her a hint that morning, and she quickly finished the two sandwiches. By the time he reached the counter, he simply had to pay for the meal.

Instead of serving him right away, Alison fixed her own lunch and carried the two plates to the booth he'd chosen. He was currently staring at the Christmas tree in the window, and she smiled. Last night had been wonderful, and she'd set aside two pieces of the apple butterscotch pie that morning so that she'd have something to serve him for dessert. Now, she remembered the warmth of his hands on her waist as she'd stepped down from the chair and shook her head. She shouldn't be so drawn to him.

He blinked when she arrived at his table, a smile causing his eyes to sparkle. "Och, thank you, love."

Alison slid into the booth across from him. "I hope you don't mind if I join you."

"Of course not!" He set aside the file he'd opened but not really studied.

"Good." She nodded. "What are you working on?"

"Oh, just a guest lecture." He sighed. "I'm supposed to be in Albuquerque on Friday, an' I have _no_ idea how I'm goin' to get there."

She grinned at his chagrined look. It seemed like he'd allowed his tongue to get the better of him and he now regretted his words. "Carson, you just need to ask. I'd be happy to give you a ride."

He had the good grace to look a bit sheepish. "I'm sorry, love. I meant to ask you last night, an' the opportunity didn't present itself." He set down his sandwich and met her eyes. "I need to go to Albuquerque to guest lecture at UNM on Friday. Would you be willin' to take me? I'll pay for everythin', take ye out to dinner, whatever you'd like to do."

Alison grinned at the invitation, wondering just how long she should make him squirm. When it came to Carson Beckett, there was little that she didn't find adorable. He had this amazing quality about him that made life seem simpler, more innocent than it really was. It left her wondering how such a good man could have landed in her life. "I like Italian food," she said by way of acceptance.

His eyebrows rose. "Is that so?"

"Yep." She shrugged. "There's a great place in Colorado Springs, but I don't get to go often. Maybe we can find something in Albuquerque."

His surprise melted into a smile. "I'll see what I can find," he said with a low, smooth tone to his voice. Alison suppressed the shiver of awareness that went down her spine at that. She needed to be careful, but hours in the car with no one to distract them from one another seemed like a really great idea right about now. She especially looked forward to being able to speak freely about their time with the Stargate Program and how it affected their lives now.

Once they finished their meal, Alison rose to take their plates to the back. She watched him go back to his notes, happy that he wasn't rushing right out the door. She rather enjoyed the silences, instinctively knowing that Carson wasn't much for small talk when he was so focused. Part of her wanted to sit in on the guest lecture, knowing that she'd have a perfectly reasonable excuse to stare at him. Now, however, she'd settle for sitting across from him and sharing a cup of hot cocoa and pie.

She returned to the table and surprised him by setting the cup of hot cocoa in front of him. The peppermint flavoring she'd added was subtle, and she hoped he'd like it. He glanced up at her as he wrapped his fingers around the cup. "Now, love, ye know I'm not supposed ta have this with the diabetes," he said.

She smiled. "It's sugar-free."

"Ah." His grin told her that he appreciated her playing along with the cover for the serum he took. Still, with that in mind, she decided to wait on the pie she'd reserved earlier that day.

Sliding back into the booth, she grinned. "I saved two pieces of that apple butterscotch pie from last night, but maybe I should wait for that."

"Aye, probably a good idea."

"Besides," she said conspiratorially as she leaned toward him, "you're as diabetic as you are American."

His mischievous grin appeared again, and he sipped the hot cocoa.

Pointing at the file, she ignored the way that grin affected her. "What are you lecturing on?"

"The influence a person's genetics plays in how he or she responds to various medications." His voice also lowered, but the tone in it was no longer playful. "I'm usin' a lot of my research from overseas to present."

"Carson, are you allowed to do that?"

"Aye." He propped his elbows on the table and wrapped both hands around the mug. "I've already gained clearance for that so long as I changed the. . .foreign. . .aspects of the research for what I'm presentin'. Besides, I'm only wantin' to discuss how that genetic predisposition can affect a patient. For example, a person who does not respond well to morphine will, naturally, not have a good experience with heroin. That affects how a doctor treats his or her patient."

Alison nodded. "I can see where it would be useful."

"Aye, an' it's somethin' I was never taught in medical school." He shrugged. "Of course, that was a few years ago," he said wryly. Then his face fell. "I mean. . . ."

Alison reached across the table and covered the hand that had dropped when he realized what he'd said. "Carson." When he looked up, she smiled. "You're as much Carson Beckett as he was. And, as far as I'm concerned, you went to medical school, graduated with honors, and did all of that. I know it's an unusual situation, but you should never be afraid to talk about those memories without qualifying them to me."

His smile was quick to appear, but it held a bit of sadness as his hand turned to take hers. "Thank you, love."

"Don't mention it." She turned as a large group of teenagers came through the door and sighed. "I should probably get back to work."

"Aye," he said again. Rising at the same time she did, he took her elbow. "Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome, Carson." Alison watched him leave the coffee house, her heart heavy for him. He was in such an unusual position, remembering things that he'd never really done. As far as he was concerned, he'd graduated from medical school, had served on Atlantis until his capture by Michael. He had no memory of ever being created although that was exactly what had happened. She remembered being a bit upset when Dusty had unthinkingly talked about how things in life didn't matter to people in stasis. Carson's stricken expression back then had worked on her, but it hadn't affected her quite like the surprised expression he'd worn a few moments ago. It was like he forgot about his true past for a bit. She hoped that she could allow him that reprieve—without the memory returning—sometime in the future.

oOo

Katie watched Carson return from his lunch break and wondered what had happened. He had left with his file tucked under his arm and a smile on his face. He returned with the same file, but the smile was missing. It was as if he'd had something happen that destroyed the remainder of his day.

Mrs. Blanchard arriving for her appointment pulled Katie's mind away from Carson. She signed the elderly woman in, listened to her complaints about aches and pains, and smiled in all the right places. Carson appeared a few minutes later, lab coat and smile in place, and called Mrs. Blanchard back with a friendly tone. Katie wryly wondered if the woman's wink as she passed the receptionist's desk was because she'd get to have Carson alone and talking to only her. Katie sighed and wished it was that easy.

Ten minutes later, Mrs. Blanchard reappeared and handed Katie her insurance card as Carson slipped into the pharmacy. The elderly woman soon followed, though she went through the front door, and Katie's eyebrows rose. The pharmacy was open? She stood and, as carefully as possible, crept to the door between the clinic and the pharmacy. She could hear Carson's friendly voice chatting with Mrs. Blanchard, though their voices were too low for her to truly hear what was said.

Returning to her desk, Katie managed to look busy until Carson returned. She stood and, sparing him only a glance, began to collect her things. "I need to get going early today," she said off-handedly. "I promised to work extra at the cafe, and I know we don't have any other appointments for the day."

"Oh, okay," Carson agreed. He smiled at her. "Thank you, Katie. Have a wonderful evening."

"You too, Carson." She stared as he headed for his office. The man had actually smiled at her without the prompting of a joke or some such thing. _So, __this __plan __is __working_, she thought. Happy with the progress, she walked to the cafe, passing the coffee house on her way. A glance in the window revealed Alison Porter working behind the counter. Katie smiled slyly. Alison was a home-town girl. She wore dowdy blouses to work and stayed with her mother. Although she had some high-paying job that Margaret never allowed anyone in town to forget about, Alison Porter was nothing. She was innocent to the ways of the world, and Katie couldn't understand what Carson saw in her. Of course, once her plan worked, Katie wouldn't have to worry about Alison or any other woman. When she was finished, Carson would be hers, and she would have everything she ever wanted.

oOo

Late that evening, Carson sat alone in Esperanza's church, having come here for some quiet before returning home. He could have done his thinking at home, but he wasn't keen on facing those four walls again. Not with the thoughts swirling through his head.

After leaving Alison that day, he'd returned to the clinic and had seen his one patient for the afternoon. Elderly Mrs. Blanchard had needed a refill on her blood pressure medication, so Carson had escorted her next door to fill it right then. As he worked, she chatted. Then, she commented on seeing him at church on Sunday. He tried to brush it off, saying that he'd never been a very religious person. She had been under the impression that he'd always gone to church, however, given that he was Scottish. With a smile, he gently informed her that not all Scottish people were religious and sent her on her way.

But her words started working on him. And she wasn't wrong. His memories of sitting on a hard wooden pew as a boy, cooped up when he'd rather be outside playing, returned with a vengeance and left him morose after his slip with Alison. He rarely allowed himself to indulge in those memories, knowing they weren't really his. But today seemed to bring up all of those thoughts, and he needed to work them out.

"Doc?" The soft voice of Esperanza's pastor broke the silence.

Carson turned and saw Ricardo Sanchez moving his direction. "I'm sorry. If ye need to lock up, I'll head home."

"No need." Pastor Sanchez sat down next to him. "What's on your mind?"

Carson looked at the altar. "A lot." For some reason, talking with the pastor seemed like the most natural thing to do. But he'd been meeting with Atlantis's padre off and on for the last year since his return from Michael's custody. "I've just been thinkin' about some questions I've not yet had answered."

"Perhaps I can answer them?"

Carson gave the man a direct look. "With all due respect, Pastor, I've been askin' these questions for over a year, an' I've not found an answer that I like."

"Could it be you're wanting an answer that doesn't exist?"

Carson blinked at the man's response. He always thought he'd worked this issue of whether or not he had a soul out, and it always crept up when he least expected it. "I really can't say whether I am or not. As it is, this is related to work I've done before coming to Esperanza, an' I can't tell you much more." He genuinely regretted having to shut the man out when Sanchez merely wanted to help him.

Pastor Sanchez nodded sagely. "Then, may I suggest you find someone you can speak with?" He shrugged. "Whatever's bugging you, Doc, has an answer. Even if it's one we don't want to hear as humans or whether it's one we're not ready to accept. But every question has an answer."

"Aye," Carson said softly. "I'm sure it does." He pushed to his feet and touched the man's shoulder in gratitude as he headed for the door. He hated shutting down the conversation, but he really couldn't talk. Not like he needed to talk. He felt the pent-up questions and emotions inside and knew that he would soon fall apart if he didn't find someone who could understand what he'd gone through.

Alison's face popped into his mind and he shook his head as he walked. He really shouldn't put as much pressure on her as he had, but she was the one person in this town that he could openly talk to about the reality of his life. She didn't understand what it meant to be a clone—not really—but she was sensitive to what he needed to hear. He'd seen it when they first met, and he'd experienced it just that afternoon. She likely wouldn't have the answers he needed, but it would feel great just to get them spoken and asked. And, maybe, he'd find that someone else had the same questions he did.

~TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** As you know, I wrote this story for NaNoWriMo. There was a challenge in my local area to write an entire conversation using only facial expressions and body language. This chapter was my attempt to answer that challenge. Also, the restaurant featured in this chapter, Vesuvius, was shamelessly swiped from **theicemenace** with her permission. As always, hope you enjoy! ~lg

oOo

The drive to Albuquerque passed in relative silence. Alison arrived at Carson's house early Friday morning as the sun barely peeked over the horizon. He appeared in his door as soon as her lights flashed across the front of the home, wearing a pair of nice jeans and a dark blue button down shirt. He had a thick notebook tucked under his arm and carried his thick coat to the car. Rather than climbing out Alison simply turned down the volume on the mp3 player she'd brought for music. The soft rock shouldn't interrupt Carson's preparations, and it would give her mind something to focus on while she drove.

"Good morning," Carson greeted as he slid into the passenger seat. "I cannae thank ye enough."

"Don't mention it." Alison picked up the plastic travel mug from the coffee house and gave it to him. "Courtesy of my mother."

He accepted with a sweet smile. "I'll be sure to thank her when we get back."

They left Esperanza behind a short time later, and Carson took the time to enjoy his coffee as the landscape passed. Alison watched from the corner of her eye, amazed at the focus he displayed. Now that the sun had fully risen, she could see the light blue and tan pinstripes in his shirt. It fascinated her to see him dressed so casually even though she knew that the students likely expected a crazed old man with hair standing on end and Grandpa glasses perched on the end of his nose. She flushed as she imagined the expressions on the college coed's faces when this amazingly attractive doctor walked through the door. _Admit __it, __Alison. __He's __HOT!_ The thought made her chuckle.

Carson glanced over, his eyebrow raised questioningly.

Alison shook her head. "Nothing. Just. . . ." She flushed. "Nothing."

He grinned at her, his dimple appearing and totally distracting her from driving for a moment. She caught herself before she did much more than drive by Braille, as her mother called it. He realized what happened, and his grin widened.

Alison's face burned. She'd just managed to reveal exactly how attracted she was to him by almost driving off of the road. _That __would __have __been __great, __Ali,_ she thought wryly. _The __man __of __your __dreams __asks __you __to __drive __him __to __Albuquerque. __You __get __an __entire __day__—__minus __the __guest __lecture__—__with __him, __as __well __as __a __nice __dinner, __and __you __drive __off __the __road __and __kill __the __two __of __you __before __it __happens. __Pay __attention!_

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Carson finished his coffee with obvious relish, smiling every time he took a sip and thoroughly distracting her. She worked to keep her focus on the road, trying in vain to ignore the way his amazing blue eyes turned to his work and notes. Once that happened, she was able ignore the way he affected her. Mostly, anyway. His silent presence next to her, moving every so often as he made a note or turned the page, warmed her heart and made her wonder if she could handle having him around all the time. Part of her screamed, _Yes!_ The other part of her—the part that demanded she think about her job with the SGC—was surprisingly silent.

At University of New Mexico, Alison and Carson were escorted directly to the classroom where he'd lecture. The students would begin arriving in a few moments, but they had time to absorb the large room, the way the desks were arranged, and the general feel of the space. The lights were focused on the front platform, where Carson would lecture, so Alison claimed a seat toward the back. She figured, like she had when he'd asked her to take him to Albuquerque, that she could stare at him without appearing out of place. After all, every other person in the room would either be staring or taking notes.

The class arrived one at a time and carrying heavy books and binders. Alison grinned as she watched them, remembering her days at CalTech and how she'd attended several guest lectures. None of those men had ever looked as great as Carson did, though, and she was again reminded that she needed to find some distance so she didn't completely embarrass herself when she left Esperanza for the SGC.

Once class started, Alison propped her chin on her hand as she listened to the instructor introduce Carson. The man, of course, knew nothing about the SGC or Carson's work in the Pegasus galaxy, but it was a glowing introduction nonetheless. Then, Carson stepped to the podium and began to spread out his notes. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," he said through the lapel mic he'd been given. "Before we begin, allow me to thank you for havin' me. Please don't be afraid to ask questions as I teach." His Scottish accent floated across the room and caught the attention of almost every person there. Alison grinned as she watched the unmarried women straighten shirts, smooth hair, and readjust their position in their desks. Pens were raised, and Carson launched into his lecture with a twinkle in his eye as he glanced at Alison.

For a long time, she simply watched. Carson was a masterful instructor, and he loved his work. It showed in the notes he wrote on the white board, the way he spoke, and the times he stopped his lecture to answer a question. The students were intelligent in their questions, and Alison appreciated that none of the women made inappropriate comments. He was there with her, after all, and that made her feel possessive of him. Not liking the jealousy that stirred as she thought about other women admiring him, she pushed the emotion away and simply allowed herself to stare.

As if sensing her thoughts, he turned and caught her eye. Like in the car, his eyebrow rose, and a slight grin appeared on his face. Alison straightened, her chin leaving her hand as she realized she'd been caught staring. At that moment, she hadn't been thinking about his lecture or anything related to genetics—unless he counted how blue his eyes were and how soothing his voice was as genetics. Somehow, she didn't think he'd agree, though the look he gave her told her he liked the attention. _Enjoyin' __what __you're __seein', __love?_ She could almost hear the question.

An answering smile crept across her face. _Of __course._

Without breaking the stride of his lecture, he glanced at his notes. Standing at the podium for a moment, he glanced up. His gaze caught hers again, and she realized the warning in it. _Stop __lookin' __at __me __like __that!_

_Like __what?_ she asked with a quirk of her own eyebrow. Rather than "answering" her, he turned and began to write on the board. Alison's eyes traveled from the back of his head down to where his untucked shirt covered the rear of his pants. It was a shame, really, to have him wearing that shirt like that.

Without warning, he turned around as one of the students called his name. The business-like expression on his face lasted only so long as he answered the student. Then, he again traded another look with Alison. _I __know __what __you're __thinkin'._

She smirked. _Do __you?_

_Aye_, his nod answered. Alison felt her face heat and was thankful for the dimness of the area where she sat. She'd never been one to check out men before, though Dusty Mehra had worn off on her a bit. The Marine was rather vocal about which assets she liked best in her men. Alison had always gone very quiet during those conversations, but she couldn't resist shaking her head. Carson Beckett seemed to bring out the woman in her who appreciated more than just a kind smile and pretty eyes. With him, she appreciated the whole package.

As if reading her thoughts, he set down the dry erase marker he held and stood in place, facing the class with his hands on his hips, serious expression on his face. His gaze swept the room, stopping briefly on her. _Stop __distractin' __me, __love. __Or __I __might __call __you __up __here __for __an __example._

Alison couldn't help herself. She actually snickered. Thankful that someone else coughed at the same time, she dropped her chin back onto her hand and resumed her thoughtful pose. She tried looking at the white board, listening to the sound of his voice as she kept her eyes glued to the ground, or fiddling with her fingernails. None of it worked.

When her eyes were again dragged back to Carson's form, he grinned. _Couldn't __resist, __could __ye?_

_Nope._ Her grin, while sheepish, was wide. She had never carried on an entire conversation—much less flirted—without saying a word. But Carson brought out a side of her that she'd feared didn't exist. She liked the power she had over him to constantly draw his gaze back to her, and she realized that she'd need to be careful. As much as she held sway over Carson, he also held the same sway over her.

Her quick glance away and shift in her seat was met with a slight scowl. _What's __wrong?_

She shook her head slightly. _Not __now._

His smile crossed his face, but it wasn't the same. He'd sensed the change in her mood, and it affected him. He continued lecturing, but she caught his frequent glances her way. _Are __you __okay?_

_Yes._ It wasn't so much of a nod as it was a settling of her body in the chair. Her chin again came to rest on her hand, and she tried to think while his voice echoed in the classroom. She'd never realized how powerful her attraction to Carson Beckett really was. She'd known that she could lose her heart to him if she wasn't careful, but now she wondered if it was a hopeless cause. No other man that she'd ever known stirred the attraction that she now felt.

Carson stood still as he opened the floor for discussion following his lecture. He casually lifted his shirt tail to shove his hands in his pockets. After the student's observations on the lecture, he turned to motion to the white board with one hand while leaving the other in his pocket. The action revealed a bit more of what the shirt had hidden earlier, and he glanced over his shoulder as he talked. His words never slowed, but his expression was for her alone. _Is __this __helping __any?_

Alison could not have stopped the reaction if she'd wanted to. She'd been taking a sip of the water bottle provided when they first arrived and choked on the liquid when she caught his expression. Students turned to look at her, and her face burned as she realized she'd been caught flirting wordlessly with the guest lecturer. True to form, Carson paused long enough to see that she'd be okay. Once he went back to discussing the topic, she frowned at him. _Behave!_

Avoiding water for the final ten minutes of class, Alison sagged in pure relief as Carson turned the platform over to the teacher. The older man thanked Carson for coming, making sure to mention Alison as well. She smiled politely as Carson left the stage, knowing it would be a few more moments before they were able to talk. And they needed to talk.

Finally, she walked toward him. He met her eyes. "Not now, love."

"I know." She fell into step with him as they left the classroom. A quick glance at her watch told her that they had time to get back home at a decent hour.

Carson caught the motion. "Don't worry about it. I've got reservations tonight at Vesuvius. I believe you mentioned you loved Italian?"

"I did." Her cheeks heated yet again. "Thank you for remembering."

He stopped in his tracks and faced her. "I wouldnae forget that, love."

It was the second time in a few moments that he'd used the endearment with her. _Other __than __in __your __imagination,_ she added. It made her feel special and uncomfortable at the same time. Special because he cared enough about her to add her to the short list of women who warranted the endearment. Uncomfortable because she suddenly wanted more from him.

That realization left her quiet as she followed the directions on her GPS to the hotel that Carson had chosen for their trip. Once in her room across from his, Alison leaned against the door and let out a deep breath. If this night went as she hoped it would, there would be no turning back.

oOo

An hour before their reservations, Carson knocked on Alison's door. He wanted to give her enough time to find the restaurant and for them to settle into where he hoped the night would go. He'd spent the afternoon going over the class in his mind and wondering if he'd misinterpreted the entire "conversation" they'd shared. It was completely different from anything he remembered, and he quite liked it. Still, he'd never been so distracted from a lecture than he had that day. He was certain that there were several moments when his words lagged and the entire class realized that he was making eyes at the gorgeous woman in the back of the room.

Hearing movement on the other side of the door, Carson smiled and shook his head. He'd glanced up from his notes to see Alison sitting forward, her chin on her hand and her eyes staring at him adoringly. It wasn't that much different from the looks Katie normally gave him, but the _woman_ made the change. With Alison, it wasn't a matter of calculation. She'd truly been enjoying the sight. When he raised an eyebrow to tell her that he'd caught the expression, she'd simply grinned at him.

And, of course, there was the moment he turned around from writing on the board to find her eyes following his every movement. But it wasn't his eyes or face that she was watching. She'd unconsciously bitten her lip and tipped her head to one side, classic signs of her admiration for his bum. And he'd liked it.

The door opened before he was able to school his features, and he blinked. Alison wore a black dress that ended just above her knees. She'd added a long-sleeved jacket over it, but the silver and diamond necklace that glittered in the hollow of her collarbone, combined with the stylish pumps, left him staring at her for a change. When he finally managed to meet her eyes—after shamelessly admiring the way the jacket and dress hugged her curves—she was grinning at him. She gave him a smirk, and he heard her voice in his head. _Like __what __you __see, __Carson?_

He finally found his voice. "Don't you look lovely!"

Suddenly, the coy expression was gone, replaced with the same sweet smile he'd remembered from their brief time in Pegasus. "Thank you."

Stepping back, Carson offered his arm and escorted her out to the car. Her dress, while different and very nice, wasn't overdone. He didn't feel under dressed in any way in his slacks and sport coat, and they chatted lightly on the way to the restaurant. But he couldn't forget the troubled expression on her face back in that classroom. He'd deliberately put his hands in his pockets and then turned his back, hoping to bring the playful, coy light back to her eyes. It had resulted in a choking fit, but she'd recovered well.

At Vesuvius, Alison handed the key to the valet and allowed Carson to usher her inside. He gave his name to the maitre d' and drew Alison to one side of the waiting area. Before long, their table was called, and he smoothly seated her before settling in himself. Then, he ordered wine and an appetizer without stumbling over the words.

Alison was watching him when he turned to face her. "Now I know what Italian sounds like with a Scottish accent."

He felt the flush creep up his neck. "I spent some time in Italy before joining the Program," he said. "I learned a bit."

"Well, you can interpret for me, because I'm just a home-grown girl from New Mexico."

For the next few minutes, they sat with their heads together over the menu as he explained the different items to her. She finally settled as their appetizer arrived, and he again ordered their meal. The waiter gave him a strange glance at his pronunciation, but he stopped long enough to ask Alison a question, revealing his Scottish accent in the process. After that, the man was more than accommodating.

Once their waiter left to place the order, Carson propped his arms on the table. He wanted to bring up their unspoken exchanges that day, but he couldn't figure out how to start.

Alison met his eyes. "I'm sorry for interrupting your lecture," she said softly.

Thankful for the opening, he smiled. "Don't be. Though I'm sure they think I'm completely incompetent."

"I don't think so." She shook her head. "Carson, your lecture was fantastic. If I'd not choked on my water. . . ."

"Let's not pretend." He reached over and gave her the exact same look he'd given her when he realized she'd been checking him out. "You and I both know that somethin' happened today."

She stared at the linen tablecloth. "Carson, I know I'm only back for a while. But I. . . .You. . . ." She let out a soft, frustrated sigh.

"Aye," he said as he reached for her hand. "I understand, love."

She laced their fingers together, studying the way their hands complimented one another. Her skin, while soft, wasn't delicate like other women's. She routinely handled P90s and various other weapons. In many ways, it more than appealed to the male side of him.

She shifted in her seat. "Carson, my mom wants us to get together."

"I know." He met her eyes. "What do you want?"

She stopped to truly think about that. The emotions that crossed her face were expressive, but they settled into a resolute look. "I think I want to find out if we can," she said as she nodded firmly.

"Good." He smiled as their meals arrived. They spent the evening in quiet conversation as Carson deliberately steered the topics toward anything that allowed him to learn about her. They laughed together, making him remember the way they'd laughed before Vega's death. By the time he escorted her back to her hotel room for the night, he'd managed to wrap his head around the idea of dating. He hadn't gone to Esperanza to turn heads, but Alison had never been just any woman. She'd been an unforgettable part of his life. Now, he looked forward to finding out how unforgettable she really could be. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had more in his future than simply his work. And that made him smile as he drifted to sleep.

oOo

_It was like waking up, but not. He first sensed sound, then the presence of others in the room. He heard them, actually. Identified Rodney's unique breathing pattern and knew that Sheppard wouldn't be far behind. Still, it took him a moment to fully open his eyes and look at the smiling faces of his friends. He'd survived! He'd made it out of that bloody stasis pod!_

_They told him that two months had passed, but the news that Jennifer had discovered the serum that stabilized his cells kept him from feeling too horrible about it. After all, Teyla was there, healthy and with a beautiful baby. He held the child shortly after awakening and smiled through his tears. He'd gone into that stasis pod fully prepared to never see her again. The doctor in him assessed the child's health, but the emotion in him adopted that baby as his nephew._

Carson woke from the dream, surprised that he hadn't had some horrible nightmare with being in such unfamiliar surroundings. It had taken a bit for him to settle into his home in Esperanza, and he now sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. Propping his arms on them, he wiped at the tears on his face.

He clearly remembered waking to see the faces of his friends around his bed. Seeing Teyla back had done him in, but he'd managed to hang on to his emotions until he had a few moments to himself. Now, though, he smiled at nothing.

He'd never dreamed about that moment. It wasn't one of the times that the psychologists were worried about, and he rarely thought about it. Truthfully, the happy moments didn't get much attention when he had horrible nightmares that interrupted his sleep. Carson chose to simply enjoy the pleasant memories and the reason he felt settled enough to think about them.

He'd walked Alison back to her room and had stopped just short of kissing her goodnight. They weren't ready for that yet, though he'd wanted to simply plant a soft kiss on her cheek at the least. Instead, she'd taken over and kissed his cheek, thanking him for a wonderful evening. He'd taken the two steps to his room and then paused to glance back at her. She was watching him with such a sweet smile that it had left him grinning like a fool as he prepared for bed.

Lying back onto his pillow, Carson let out a happy sigh and stared at the ceiling. Yes, life was definitely looking quite attractive, and he couldn't wait to see what else it held.

oOo

In Esperanza, a dark figure crept through the pharmacy. Careful to avoid the windows, it snagged bottles from the shelf and dumped several pills from each one into its hand. Then, just as quietly, the form set the alarm and slipped out into the night.

~TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Margaret Porter was an observant woman, especially when it came to her family and customers in her coffee house. As a result, she saw the change in Alison's relationship with Carson the moment they arrived home from Albuquerque. Carson held the door for Alison, laughing at something she said as he rested his hand gently on the small of her back. And Alison beamed at him, her blue eyes sparkling as she turned to face her mother.

"Hey, Mom!"

Burying a smile, Margaret finished making a latte for Mrs. Engleside. "Alison."

Carson gave her a look somewhere between a smirk and a smile. "Hello, Margaret." He spoke softly with Alison while Margaret finished the transaction with Doug's wife. As soon as the woman turned, however, Carson's smile faded. A dark bruise covered the left side of Mrs. Engleside's face, quite noticeable in spite of the heavy makeup and large sunglasses she used to hide it. He touched the woman's arm. "Mrs. Engleside, are ye okay?"

Mrs. Engleside jerked her elbow away from him, shaking her head quickly. "I'm fine, Doc."

Carson's chin lowered slightly, a sign he didn't believe her. "You're certain?"

"Yes." Mrs. Engleside smiled to hide the tension in her shoulders. "I went out riding earlier today and took a tumble from the horse's back."

"Very well." Carson accepted that for the moment, though Margaret could see he wasn't sure whether to believe her. "How's Debbie recoverin'?"

The familiar topic dispelled some of the tension in the room. "She's good. Doug has her going to Albuquerque once a week to see a psychologist, and he's insisted on tests to make sure she stays clean." The woman put a hand on Carson's arm. "Thank you again, Doc," she said with tears in her voice. "I can't imagine. . . ."

Carson reached over to steady her when she started trembling. "It was my pleasure, Mrs. Engleside."

The woman left with a nod, and he turned back to where Margaret pretended complete absorption in cleaning the espresso machine. Alison openly watched him, thrilling her mother. Carson's sparkling eyes reappeared when he saw Alison, and Margaret couldn't resist teasing the two. They were just too obvious. "How was Albuquerque?"

Alison flushed. "Wonderful." She slipped behind the counter and reached for two mugs. "Carson took me to this restaurant called Vesuvius."

Margaret's head came up with a jerk, and she blinked. Given the size of Esperanza—or lack thereof—she stayed up on which restaurants came into the nearby cities. She usually referred at least one couple to one of them a year, and she normally enjoyed giving those references. When Vesuvius had opened in Albuquerque a few months back, it had been impossible to even get a reservation. The high prices of the food—and the reputation that preceded the restaurant from its origins in Vancouver—couldn't keep people away. And she'd heard and read nothing but good about the place. Rave reviews about everything from the atmosphere to the quality of the wine to the wonderful recipes made her wish to go there one day.

Margaret eyed Carson, her grin not quite hidden. "Did he, now?"

A flush started at the collar of his shirt and crept up his neck. "Aye," he said softly. Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. "What did I tell ye about why I came to this town, Margaret?"

"That you didn't come to have your head turned," she replied just as softly, happy that Alison was obliviously occupied with making two peppermint mochas. "But I'm smart enough to know that your head was turned by my daughter before you ever came to Esperanza."

He stared at her for a few moments before closing his eyes and shaking his head. He let out a slightly exasperated tone. "There might be some truth to that."

"I _know_ there is." She patted his hand. "And I wholeheartedly approve."

"Margaret," he said in a warning tone.

She met his eyes while raising her voice. "Alison, a pie just came out of the oven a while ago. Would you mind cutting three pieces? I think I could use a break and a snack." As her daughter nodded and headed for the kitchen, Margaret waved a hand at Carson when he pulled out his wallet. "From now on, you don't pay for anything here. You and my daughter are seeing each other—whatever that means to the two of you—and that makes you family."

He gave her another one of his indulgent mock glares. Instead of commenting, he took the two peppermint mochas and carried them to a table near the counter. Margaret fixed her own coffee and followed Alison as she set the fresh apple butterscotch pie on the table. It would go quickly, Margaret knew. The Scottish dish had become a holiday favorite, and she already had an abundance of orders for them to be filled before Christmas Day. For now, though, she decided to simply sit with her daughter and a man who had become a surrogate son. As she sipped her coffee, she hid a grin. If she had her way, he'd be more than just an adopted family member. He'd become a permanent part of the tiny Porter family. And she was more than happy with that.

oOo

Carson had barely awakened on Sunday morning when the phone next to his bed rang. He'd subscribed to cell service when he first arrived back on Earth and had been thrilled when the provider actually had a tower near Esperanza. Now, he blinked at the phone number and frowned. "'ello?"

"Carson, it's Margaret." Her voice was quiet, almost as if she was whispering. "I apologize if I woke you."

"You didn't." He threw his covers back and sat up suddenly. Her voice was tense, telling him that something was wrong.

"Good." She sighed over the phone. "I hate to impose, but I was wondering if you could come stay with Alison today. She woke up with a bad migraine, and I've got. . . ."

"Say no more," Carson interrupted. "Give me half an hour to get over there."

"Take your time." Margaret's smile could be heard over the phone, as could her relief. "I don't need to be at the church for another few hours." She paused and then came back on the phone. "I've gotta go. I'll see you in a bit." She hung up before Carson could say anything.

He sat and stared out the glass doors in his room. The day was bright, with fluffy white clouds whispering across the sky. He hadn't known that Alison suffered from migraines, but the brightness would make the day tough on her. Pushing to his feet, he took a shower and ate breakfast in a brisk manner. Then, after gathering his medical kit as well as a new medical journal that came in the mail while he was in Albuquerque, he walked across town.

Margaret answered the door with a smile. "Right on time. Thank you for this, Carson."

Carson stepped through, noticing how she'd whispered. "Och, don't mention it," he said just as softly. He peeked into the living room and saw Alison lying on the couch, a damp cloth over her eyes and bag-lined trash can next to her. A blanket lay on one of the chairs. "How is she?"

Margaret shrugged. "She says she'll be fine in a few hours. But I've never seen her so sick with one of these."

"How often does she have them?"

"Only once a year or so." Margaret smiled sadly. "They started after my husband passed away."

He nodded and quietly walked across the room to kneel next to the couch. "Alison?"

She turned toward him. "Carson?" Her voice was weak, not quite a whisper but nearly as soft.

"Your mum's a bit worried, an' so am I." He reached out and carefully touched her hand, aware that she might react badly. When she didn't immediately pull away, he smiled. "On a scale of one to ten, how's the pain?"

She bit her lip slightly as she thought about that. "About an eight. Sometimes up to a nine."

He nodded again and reached for his medical kit. "Well, I know you're not feelin' great, but I need ye to take some warm tea if you're able to hold it down. The caffeine will help, as will the medication I brought."

"I'll try." She didn't look too thrilled with the instructions.

Carson smiled at that and patted her hand before rising to talk to Margaret. "We'll be fine here," he said reassuringly.

The older woman nodded uncertainly. "I would stay, but I've got a meeting after church. I'm supposed to cater the local Christmas social, an' I've got to stop in to the coffee house to get some accounting paperwork to do."

Carson touched her elbow. "Take your time." He tilted his head in the direction of the couch. "She'll likely sleep most of the day, an' I'll make certain she's got somethin' to eat when this wears off."

Margaret hugged him, and Carson watched her slip out of the house. She didn't want to go, not with her daughter in such pain. "Right," he whispered to himself. He moved to the kitchen to make the tea and carried it back to the couch along with the sumatriptan he'd picked up at the pharmacy and another damp rag. Before he even left the kitchen, he heard Alison mutter something. He found her leaning over the trash can. Quickly setting down the tea, medication, and rag on the dining table, he hurried to her side and put a gentle hand on her shoulder as she finished retching. The rag that had been over her eyes had fallen to the floor, but he ignored it as he helped her lie back on the couch. A glass of water sat next to her, and he encouraged her to rinse her mouth.

"Thanks," she whispered. Then, in spite of the pain and light sensitivity, she rolled her eyes. "Real romantic, isn't it?"

Carson smiled at that. "I'm a doctor, love," he said as he helped her adjust into a semi-upright position. "This isn't going to push me away."

Alison gave a tiny laugh. "Good to know." She lifted a shaking hand and covered her eyes. "I'm sorry about this."

"Don't be." He stood, moved the trash can to clean in a few moments, and reached for the tea. "I added a bit of peppermint to the tea. It should hopefully help with the nausea."

She accepted the medication he offered and swallowed it willingly. Then, she sipped the tea. "That's really good."

"Aye," he agreed with a smile. Seeing that she'd settled somewhat, he rose to take care of the mess and returned to find that she'd finished the tea and was again lying on the couch. Returning the trash can to its original place, he refreshed the cool rag he'd left on the table and gently laid it over her eyes. She reached for him, and he took her hand. "Are you just light an' sound sensitive, or do smells bother you?"

She shook her head slightly. "Just light and sound." Her forehead wrinkled. "Why?"

"When you're better, you'll need somethin' to eat." He smiled as he laid her hand on her stomach. "I was thinkin' some soup would work."

She shifted in place. "I would say that sounds good, but. . . ."

"I understand." He touched her shoulder. "Go to sleep, Alison. I'll be here when you wake up."

Her lips tipped up a bit in a weak smile. "Thank you, Carson."

"You're welcome." He moved to Margaret's easy chair and watched as the sumatriptan worked its magic. Her face eased, and the lines disappeared almost completely as she drifted to sleep. Finally certain she'd rest well, he reached for the blanket on the back of the couch and covered her. Then, he slipped into the kitchen to explore.

Several hours later, with chicken soup simmering on the back burner of the stove, Carson was pulled from the medical journal he'd eventually begun to read by Alison shifting on the couch. She rolled toward the front of the couch, and the rag over her eyes fell to the ground. Carson moved to pick it up, careful to avoid making too much noise. Some migraine sufferers recovered after just a few hours, and some agonized for days. He didn't imagine that Alison had many of the headaches, or she would never have been recruited by the SGC.

When she settled back into sleep, he headed for the kitchen to stir the soup and fix two more cups of tea. This time, he made it a bit stronger and added some sugar. Alison would likely be hungry if she hadn't eaten anything since last night. A glance at his watch told him it was late afternoon, and he knew that Margaret would appear soon.

With a sigh, he returned to the living room to find Alison still sleeping. Returning to his chair, he kicked back and closed his eyes. Now that the worst of it had passed, he could afford to give in to the pull of sleep. Smiling at the thought that Margaret had trusted him enough to care for her daughter, he dozed.

oOo

Alison woke slowly, a dull ache in her neck and shoulders reminding her of the day-long ordeal. She'd felt the migraine coming on last night and had taken some pain killers when she went to bed, hoping to stall it. She didn't get them often, and they tended to attack at the worst possible times. This was the first one in several years, which is why it surprised her.

Cautiously blinking her eyes, she realized the light sensitivity was gone. The room was dim, though, with only a light burning in the kitchen. The sun had likely set a short time ago. She heard voices from another room in the house but didn't have the energy to get up and follow them. Her mother's chair had been moved slightly, and a medical journal lay open on the table beside it. Smiling at the subtle sign of Carson's presence, she pulled the blanket around her shoulders and enjoyed the absence of pain.

A shadow crossed the doorway, and she opened her eyes in time to see Carson smile at her. Thinking that she could handle seeing that grin every day of her life, she returned it. "Hey."

He crouched next to her. "How are you?"

"Better." She shifted her head on the pillow. "Thanks for being here."

His smile widened and changed, became gentler. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be." He glanced over his shoulder. "Your mum came home about an hour ago. She's workin' on accounting right now, but I can tell her you're awake."

Alison shook her head. "I'll tell her myself. I need to. . . ." Then, she flushed as she realized what she'd been about to tell him.

Carson clearly got the message. "While you do that, I'll get some soup served up."

"Sounds great." She waited while he headed into the kitchen before pushing the blanket away from her shoulders. Sitting up caused the world to tilt slightly, but she waited a few moments until that subsided. She didn't need Carson hovering as she went to the bathroom.

Just down the hall, her mother's office door was closed. She knocked lightly and pushed it open, blinking at the bright light. Margaret glanced up from her desk and then jumped to her feet. "How are you, Sweetheart?"

"I'm fine, Mom." Alison shrugged. "Thanks for having Carson come over."

Margaret gave her a sly grin. "I knew you'd appreciate that. Besides, he _is_ a doctor. And he knows how to cook!"

Alison laughed at that. "Yeah, I noticed. The soup smells great."

"It _is_ great." Margaret dropped back into her chair. "I'm going to be here most of the evening, Ali, so don't worry about me. I won't eavesdrop."

"Mom!" Alison flushed at the insinuation, causing her mother to laugh and shoo her out of the room. A quick stop at the bathroom later, she found Carson setting a bowl of soup on the table next to the couch. She slowly settled into the couch, pulling the blanket around her shoulders as she tucked her feet up. Carson returned a few moments later with silverware and ice water. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Don't mention it," he replied. Then, he abandoned her mother's chair to join her on the couch.

They chatted lightly while they ate, and Alison was surprised to find the chicken vegetable soup he'd made helped settle the residual queasiness from the migraine. The broth was tasty without being overly spicy, and she allowed herself to imagine him in the kitchen, putting it all together with the same ease he'd displayed in his own kitchen. For some reason, the image appealed on more levels than just the surface. When she finished eating, he took the dishes back to the kitchen and returned with two cups of tea. This time, it was stronger than earlier that day, and Alison wrapped her hands around the warm cup. "You really are something."

He blinked at that comment, and she couldn't help laughing at herself. "I'm sorry," she said. "When I've got a migraine, I sometimes lose the ability to filter what I say."

"Alison." His voice was firm while still being gentle. When she looked at him, he shook his head. "You don't have to keep apologizing. I'm happy to have been here."

She saw how much he meant it and found she couldn't look away. "It's just. . . ." Breaking eye contact, she stared into her tea. "Thanks."

He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it before allowing his thumb to rub across her knuckles. Instead of saying anything, he motioned to the television across the room. "We can visit or watch a movie or whatever you'd like to do."

Alison grinned at him. "Let's watch a movie. Something light. Not too heavy."

He smirked at her. "Are ye sure? Ye'll find I'm just a big softie."

"I knew that already."

He chuckled as he pushed off of the couch. "Thanks a lot," he said wryly.

"No charge." Alison grinned as he moved to the shelf next to the television stand. She allowed herself to check him out a bit as he picked out three different movies. When he turned, she caught the cheeky smile on his face and realized that he knew what she was doing. Somehow, she wasn't as embarrassed by it now as she was yesterday.

He carried the three DVDs to her and, when she'd chosen, inserted the movie into the player. Alison waited until he'd settled on the couch before scooting closer to him to lean into his side as _The __Holiday_ began to play. Carson naturally wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Alison watched Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz trade homes for the Christmas season and fall in love with men from different countries. Realizing that she was doing exactly what the women in the movie had done—falling in love with a man from a totally different country—she smiled and snuggled closer to Carson. He glanced at her with a grin but made no comment as she allowed herself to get lost in the plot of the movie.

When the credits finally rolled, Alison admitted something to herself. She was falling in love. And she liked how it felt.

~TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Wednesday evening, Alison pulled into the drive of Carson's home and grinned. He'd told her that he'd purchased a vehicle—finally—but she hadn't expected the late eighties model Ford truck. Somehow, the slightly battered copper-colored pickup suited him, though, and she grinned at the thought of the man she was dating working out of the back of it. Of course, she'd never truly seen him in action in the field, so she couldn't say whether the idea of him doing manual labor was hotter than the thought of him being completely focused on saving a life.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she left her mother's car behind and found Carson standing in the door of his home. They'd shared lunch at the coffee house on both Monday and Tuesday, but he'd asked her to join him for a private dinner tonight. She'd jumped at the opportunity, grateful to have a place where she wouldn't need to filter everything she said.

Carson accepted her coat, hanging it on the coat rack he'd recently acquired and letting her wander through the house. He had added a few more touches over the week, making it feel more like a home with each time she came. Tonight, a fire burned in the fireplace, and the table had been set with matching dishes, wine glasses, linen napkins, and a tall candle holder. Somehow, she imagined Carson setting the table like this all the time, but the effort made her smile anyway. They chatted about the truck, his work, and the coffee house while he served dinner. He grinned when she complimented his cooking, though she suspected he knew it was good already. He called the dish Scottish Beef with wild mushroom mash and green vegetables. Alison didn't care. It was wonderful.

After dinner, Alison insisted on helping him clean the kitchen. It had never been her favorite chore in the world, but Carson made it fun. Of course, it was hard to hate doing dishes when he was too busy flicking bubbles at her as the dishwater filled the sink. She was well and truly soaked before they even started washing, and his shirt wasn't much better.

Determined to ignore the way her damp shirt cooled after leaving the kitchen, Alison stood next to the fire and watched the flames devour the log that Carson had just added. She needed to talk to him, to find out how he was really doing, but she didn't want to break the light atmosphere that had dominated for most of their date. He clearly sensed that she had something on her mind and pulled her into his arms. A smile covered her face as she leaned into him and simply enjoyed the warmth of his arms.

"Sorry for soakin' you," he said softly. His breath stirred the hair around her ear, and she couldn't suppress the shiver that went down her spine. She sensed more than saw his smile at that.

"Don't worry about it, Carson." Turning in his arms, she decided to take a few plays from Dusty's book. The Marine and Chuck Campbell had started dating a few months back, and Dusty had never been one to be shy. Now, Alison put aside her personal reservations and draped her arms around Carson's neck. "I was just thinking about some things and not sure how to bring them up."

"You don't ever have to worry about bringin' something up in conversation, love." His brow lowered, though it wasn't in anger. "What's on your mind?"

"You." Though the comment could have been taken in a sexual connotation, Alison meant it totally different. And Carson knew it. She sighed and glanced over his shoulder to where the painting of the Golden Gate Bridge warmed the wall. "How are you really doing, Carson? I mean, I know you're loving life here in Esperanza, but there's got to be things bugging you. I know I have them. Dreams. Things I've done that no one else here in town would understand." She chuckled mirthlessly. "My own mother doesn't understand why I insist on the doors being locked at night when she's never locked them in her life. But you do, and I was wondering if I'm the only one feeling that."

His smile reappeared, and it was even more breathtaking up close. "You're not the only one." The smile faded, and shadows entered his eyes. "As for the dreams, they're there. The doctors told me I may live with them for the rest of my life."

"How do you cope with them?"

"I wake up." He shrugged. "I remember that, while I endured all of that with Michael, it's in the past. My family rescued me, and, even though my homecoming wasn't what I'd always envisioned, it was still wonderful to be back on Atlantis."

Alison saw the openness in his face and realized he wouldn't become upset with her. "Going into stasis had to be hard."

"Aye, it was." He let out a deep breath. "I dinnae want to go into that machine, but I couldnae watch them watch me die. An' I truly thought I'd never come out again. When I did. . . ." He shook his head. "I still had a long way to go physically, but coming out of that pod was probably one of the best days of my life."

"I can imagine." She blinked. "I couldn't imagine what I'd feel if I suddenly found Alicia Vega again."

"Aye," he said again. His arms tightened around her, and he laid his forehead against hers. "What brought this up? Really?"

"I dreamed last night," she whispered, the nightmare of the mission that killed Vega fading with every passing second that he stayed so close to her. "About the night we met. Only, this time, I didn't come back from the mist."

He nodded. "I dream about that night sometimes, as well."

"You do?"

"Aye." His smile turned up only half of his mouth this time, highlighting his dimple though his eyes were sad. "You don't get over somethin' like that overnight, Ali. Give yourself some time while you're here to react."

"I'm trying." She shrugged. "I just don't want to worry Mom." Then, she shook her head. "And I didn't want this to turn morbid, but it did."

He met her eyes with a pointed look of his own, one that melted her insides even as she recognized the seriousness in his expression. "We're the only people in town who truly understand what it's like out there. If anything, we should be able to talk to one another about the good _and_ the bad."

Alison nodded and laid her head on his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his arms around her. She'd dated before, had tried the dating game since meeting Carson. But none of those men ever made her feel safe enough to stay close to for more than a short time. One of them had actually tried to make out with her on their first date, and Alison had shut him down quickly. While she wasn't opposed to making out with the man she was dating, she refused to do so until she knew him better. With Carson, she knew he wouldn't try anything until both of them were ready.

"Do you miss it?" she asked suddenly, the thought popping into her head and out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"What, Pegasus?" When she nodded against his shoulder, he sighed. "Aye. I miss the people. I know comin' back to Earth was necessary, but there's still people back there who could use the help. If the IOA ever releases Atlantis to return, I'll go in a heartbeat."

"Me, too."

They fell quiet for a time, each one lost in thought. Alison allowed her mind to wander, to imagine having Carson around all the time. And Carson propped his chin on the top of her head and simply smiled. Since coming out of the stasis pod and adjusting to the reality that he was a clone—a copy of the man he thought he really was—he'd resigned himself to a solitary existence. Meeting Alison all those months ago was a big surprise and made him think about more than simply repaying his debt to the Pegasus galaxy. She stirred the desire to have a life outside of his work, and he found that, now, he didn't want to ignore that. He wanted to know if this drawing that he felt would survive the stresses of her job and his unique existence.

As the night ended, both of them realized one thing. They were falling in love with one another, and neither one wanted to stop the free fall.

oOo

Outside the house, Katie stood on the sidewalk and stared at the scene through the plate glass window. It would have been heartwarming for anyone else, but it created a deep anger inside of her. And that was telling in and of itself. Had she truly loved Carson, she suspected it would have hurt to see him holding Alison Porter so gently. Instead, she just saw the loss of an incredible opportunity, one that stood a chance of making her the happiest woman alive.

Turning her head from the display as Carson propped his head on Alison's, Katie stalked down the sidewalk. She'd come to this neighborhood to meet with an old friend of hers, one she hadn't seen in quite some time although they talked on the phone often. She'd been surprised to realize that Carson had company and had stopped when she saw him pull Alison into his arms. At first, she wondered if there was about to be a real show, something she could film on her phone to hold over him as blackmail. But Alison seemed intent on talking, not taking advantage of the incredibly attractive man who held her. Katie couldn't imagine what other woman would be so innocent as to ignore the obvious. If Carson looked at her the way he looked at Alison, Katie would have dragged him to the nearest surface by now and had made his dreams come true.

Swallowing the bile that surged at the back of her throat, she realized that she needed to step up her campaign. Carson had been friendlier to her in recent days, actually looking at her and smiling rather than keeping his eyes fixed on whatever file or chart he held. He liked seeing her dressed modestly, and Katie had added a few extra things to her wardrobe over the weekend. Now, she just needed to figure out how to turn his head away from Alison Porter.

Mind whirling, she met up with her friend and spent a relatively enjoyable evening reminiscing about younger days.

oOo

"Dr. Beckett?" Katie's voice over the office intercom pulled Carson from his thoughts. She'd taken to using the technology as opposed to coming back personally, and he quite liked the idea of being left alone. Especially when he had so many thoughts whirling through his head.

Pressing the button on his phone, he set aside the questions that his evening with Alison had stirred. "Aye?"

"You have a visitor. A Dr. Rodney McKay?" Katie's voice was curious.

Carson blinked. Rodney was in Esperanza? Why? Pushing out of his chair, he hurried to the front of the clinic. Rodney stood with his hands in his pockets and staring at the large print hung on the wall. Carson grinned. "Rodney?"

"Carson!" The astrophysicist stuck out his hand, a smile lighting his features. "It's great to see you!"

"Aye," Carson agreed. He shook his friend's hand and then motioned. "My receptionist, Katie. Jorge's around here somewhere, but it's near lunch time. He may have gone home for that."

Rodney waved a hand. "Oh. Well. I'm not worried." Turning to Katie, he graced the woman with a perfunctory smile. "Nice to meet you."

Katie nodded, her eyes returning to her computer screen even though Carson realized she was still listening.

Carson motioned toward the rear of the clinic, back to the one place he knew he'd have some privacy to speak with his closest friend. "What brings you to Esperanza?"

"Oh, um, well, to see you." Rodney jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "I was hoping we could get some lunch?"

Carson chuckled at that. "Sounds great. Give me a moment, and I'll be right back." He turned to Katie. "Why don't ye take the rest of the day, dear? We don't have any more patients today, an' I won't be back in the office."

She grinned. "Whatever you say, Doctor." Then, she turned to shutting down her computer.

Carson quickly shed his lab coat and grabbed the light jacket he wore most days. New Mexico wasn't as cool as he was accustomed to feeling, but it was December. And the incessant wind sliced through even the thickest clothing without even trying. By the time he returned to the waiting area, Katie was gone, and Rodney still stood with his hands in his pockets.

The physicist pointed. "Your receptionist lit out of here like a bat outta. . . ."

"Aye, she typically does," Carson interrupted. "She works a second job at the cafe and often heads straight there from here." He locked the clinic behind him, taking time to ensure that the pharmacy was also secured.

"So, how've you been?" Rodney asked as they started walking down the sidewalk.

"Oh, good." Carson grinned. "I love this town, though there's been a few surprises since I've been here."

"How's Dottie?"

"Debbie?" Carson grinned at his friend's slip.

"Debbie. God, what is it with me and names?"

Carson actually chuckled at that, having heard the frustration on many occasions. "She's good. Recoverin' with no sign of a relapse."

"Oh, that's good." Rodney eyed Carson as they reached the front door of the coffee house. "So, interested in anyone these days?" he asked in a near perfect imitation of the question Carson had asked him right after the two of them had been held captive on a Wraith hive.

Carson rolled his eyes and opened the door, knowing that he couldn't lie to his friend. Rodney might not catch the lie, but he would catch the undercurrents flowing between him and Alison. "I wouldn't say that I'm simply 'interested,' but I am seein' someone."

"Oh?" Rodney perked up. "Who?"

"Since when have ye been interested in anyone's love life?" Carson asked wryly. He turned as he saw Alison at the counter, grinning at him and blinking in surprise at Rodney. "Hello, love. You remember Dr. McKay?"

Alison's smile widened. "Of course."

Rodney blinked. "Porter? What are you doing here?" Then he turned to Carson, who stared at him with a confused expression. "We worked together on a couple of projects after getting back from overseas."

"Ah." Carson nodded and waited for Alison's response. He loved seeing that fire in her eyes and knew she didn't hold Rodney's blunt question against him.

True to form, she grinned. "Well, this _is_ Porter's Tea and Coffee House."

Rodney had the good sense to glance around. "Nice place."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks." Turning to Carson, she grinned. "The usual?"

"Aye." He waited for Rodney to order before leading his friend to his normal table.

McKay frowned. "Aren't you going to pay? Or should I?"

Carson shrugged. "The owner has a thing against charging her daughter's boyfriend for food."

McKay choked even though he didn't have his drink yet. "Boyfriend? Wait. . .you and Porter?" His eyes moved back and forth as Carson waited for Rodney's mind to make the connection. "A year ago, Sheppard asked how Porter was doing. You two were talking about _that_ Porter?"

Carson couldn't help it. He let out a laugh that soon had Rodney chuckling ruefully. "Aye, Rodney, I was talkin' about _that_ Porter." He sobered. "What really brings you to Esperanza?"

Alison interrupted briefly to set their drinks on the table. Carson thanked her quietly while Rodney fiddled with the coffee mug. Finally, the physicist let out a deep sigh. "Well, I know we kind of planned a team Christmas this year, and I. . .we. . .that is, Jennifer and I won't be there."

Carson's eyebrows rose, but he stayed quiet.

Rodney looked out the window at the town square with a few leaves scuttling across the cobblestones in the cold wind. "We're going to Canada."

"To see your sister?"

"Yeah." Rodney glanced up. "Carson, I know this is your first Christmas back on Earth, and Sheppard planned this big thing to celebrate with everyone. But, the thing is, I'm kinda planning to propose," he finished with a sparkle in his eyes and a grin on his face.

This time, it was Carson who choked on his coffee. "You're what?"

"You heard me." Rodney scowled. "What? You don't think I'm ready? Because I am. I've been waiting for the right time, and this is it! I know what happened with Katie Brown, but that's not going to happen this time. Jennifer's the right woman for me, and. . . ."

Carson held up a hand to stop his friend's rant. "That's not what I meant, Rodney." He chuckled. "I knew you'd get 'round to asking Jennifer eventually. I just wasn't planning on knowing about it before the fact."

"Oh." Rodney shifted in his seat. "Well, maybe I wanted to know what my best friend thought of it."

"I think it's great!" Carson sat back as Alison delivered their lunch. Seeing Rodney watching her closely, he frowned. "What?"

"Nothing." Rodney shook his head. "I just never realized what I looked like when Jennifer's around, though Sheppard is intent on telling me about it every single time."

Carson took a moment to blink at his friend. "Am I really discussing women and relationships with you, of all people?"

"I know. Weird, isn't it?"

"Aye."

The two men fell silent as they began to eat their lunch. Rodney McKay hadn't changed all that much since Carson had last seen him, but he'd grown a lot. The physicist was softer, less blunt and more aware of others around him. Carson supposed that it was Jennifer's influence on his life and thought the pair perfectly suited to one another even if unlikely.

Finally, Rodney set down the sandwich he'd ordered. "So, would you be my best man?"

"Do ye really have to ask?" Carson grinned. "I'd be honored."

"Good." Rodney frowned. "Just so we're clear. You're _not_ wearing that skirt you keep hidden in your closet to my wedding!"

Carson rolled his eyes. "It's a _kilt_, Rodney, and I know."

"Whatever." Rodney waved his hand. "So, you have any plans for Christmas?"

"I'm not planning to propose, if that's what you're askin'." Carson grinned. "But I was thinking of taking Alison to Albuquerque the week before Christmas to the ballet."

Rodney shook his head. "Do you see what these women have done? They've turned us into huge softies."

Carson chuckled at that. "Aye, I suppose you're right."

Rodney frowned. "Wait, the weekend before Christmas?"

"Yes, why?"

"That's, um. . . ." Rodney shrugged sheepishly. "That's just when Sheppard planned the team Christmas so you could be back here and the rest of the group could make it home. He said he emailed you."

Carson cursed under his breath and pulled out his cell phone. Sure enough, there was an email waiting for him to read. It simply told him to pack warm and bring his passport. He frowned. "My passport?"

"That's what he said." Rodney grinned and leaned forward. "You know, I'm fairly sure he wouldn't have a problem if you bring Porter with you. Especially since you and she. . . ."

Carson gave the physicist a pointed look. They finished their lunch and spent the next few hours chatting. They couldn't talk freely, but both of them used enough of the code words to get the message across. Rodney even surprised Carson by asking Alison to join them for a bit, and the trio enjoyed a mid-afternoon snack provided by Margaret. Alison's mother was thrilled to meet another coworker of her daughter's, and she waved off Rodney's offer to pay for the food.

That night, Carson retired to his home with a smile on his face. He might have dealt with dreams of his time with Michael, but having people like Alison and Rodney around made life worth it. Thinking about Rodney's plans to propose to Jennifer, he grinned. He needed to find a reason to wear a kilt around McKay just to get a reaction out of the physicist. He knew Sheppard would help if necessary and would have spent way too much time reasoning it out if he hadn't fallen asleep.

Rodney returned to Atlantis the next morning after breakfast, but he promised to send pictures of the entire group soon. Carson waved while his friend headed to the pre-determined beam-out point and smiled.

It was good to be alive.

~TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who is reading and/or reviewing. I normally respond to reviews before I post, but my schedule today is such that eking out the time to just post took a bit of work. So, know that I appreciate all your kind words. Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

Friday passed quietly, and Carson had a difficult time believing it had been a week since his guest lecture in Albuquerque. He had a week left before Sheppard whisked him—and hopefully Alison—away to parts unknown. The colonel was quite adventurous, and Carson hoped the man would take everyone's idea of a good time into account. He still needed to ask Alison to accompany him and figured today's lunch would be a perfect time.

"Carson?" Katie's voice in the door, sounding somewhat concerned, brought his head up. He blinked tiredly, the dream from last night having kept him awake since two that morning. But he still realized that she'd broken her pattern of referring to him by his title.

"Aye?"

She slipped into the office. "Do you have a few moments? I really needed to talk to you, and. . . ." She shrugged sheepishly, though it did nothing to calm Carson's worry.

"Of course." He waved her into the room, his heart sinking when she closed the door behind her. "What's on your mind?"

She stood in front of him, her fingers twisted together as if she wasn't certain how to bring up the topic. "Well, thing is, I'm worried about you."

"Me?" Carson blinked. "I assure you, Katie, you have no need to worry about me."

She crossed the room suddenly and dropped into one of the chairs, scooting forward to take his hand. Carson barely resisted jerking his arm away as if burned. Something wasn't right here, and he didn't like what it said about his receptionist. She looked earnestly into his eyes. "Yes, I do, Carson." She frowned. "You are important to this town—to _me_. And even I can see that you're not sleeping. Is everything okay? Are you having problems with the diabetes that you don't want us knowing about?"

"Diabetes?" He frowned. "No, I promise my diabetes is quite under control. I'm keepin' track of everything I eat, an' things are good. Katie, I'm fine."

"Then why aren't you sleeping?"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, knowing someone would eventually ask. He'd always hoped it would stop with Alison and Margaret worrying about him. "Katie, before I came here, I did work with the military. Work I can't talk about. Sometimes, that leaves you with things you'd rather forget and can't."

She broke eye contact for the first time, looking at the desk as realization crossed her face. "I'm sorry, Carson. I didn't mean to pry."

He forced himself to smile, not having anything to suspect her on beyond the idea that she wanted to push herself on him. That was enough to make him uncomfortable, but it wasn't enough to create a huge scene. "Don't worry about it."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" She glanced back up, a calculating look in her eyes. "Maybe I could come over and help you. . .relax."

The flush started at his neck and creep up. His ears felt as if they were on fire. He'd never been propositioned before, and having it happen in a professional setting galled him. As a doctor, Carson insisted on ethical behavior between himself and his patients and employees. He stood suddenly, his office chair rolling into the bookshelves behind him. Katie blinked at him as he stared down at her. "Ms. Summers, I assure you that I'll be fine. Now, if you don't mind, I've got plans for lunch."

Katie stood slowly. "I see." She frowned. "Carson, you're sure?"

"Aye, I'm sure." He nodded to the door in a not-so-subtle hint that she needed to leave. She took the hint and left him without a backward glance.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Carson let out a deep breath. His irritation faded along with one realization. In a town this small, Katie could conceivably create problems by simply talking. He didn't want Alison hearing about this from anyone else, especially since he planned to ask her to head off to parts unknown with him just next week. Pulling his lab coat off, he grabbed his jacket and let himself out the rear of the clinic. The more distance he put between himself and Katie, the better.

The coffee house was quiet, with only one other customer in the dining area. Margaret stood behind the counter, adding fresh Danishes to the glass case. She glanced up and smiled. "Carson. You're early."

"Aye." He met her eyes. "Is Alison here? I really need to talk with her."

"She's in the back." Margaret reached for the swinging door that separated the area behind the register from the dining room. "What happened?"

He stared back at her. "I'm not sure, an' I don't want to say anything until I speak with Alison." Movement outside the window caught his eye, and he turned to see Katie walking past.

Margaret clearly saw the distaste that crossed his face. "Use my office. It's not much, but it'll work."

"Thank you." Carson slipped into the kitchen area and found Alison finishing up with some dishes.

She glanced up, her dark hair plastered to her forehead as steam rose from the wash water. Reaching for the hand towel, she blinked. "Carson!"

"Hello, love." He had the urge to lean in and kiss her right then, but he realized that he wasn't in the right head space for something like that. Instead, he took her elbow gently. "Do you have a few moments?"

"Yeah." She allowed him to lead her into Margaret's office and close the door. "What is it?"

Carson paced away from her, rubbing the back of his neck. "How well do ye know Katie Summers?"

Alison floundered for a moment. "Not well. She's got a reputation in town, but she wasn't raised here. Why?"

He nodded. "Because she propositioned me this morning."

"She _what_?"

"Don't worry, love. I made certain she left my office right after the words left her mouth."

"Carson, I'm not worried about you." She ran a hand through her short hair. "I trust _you_. I'm just shocked that she'd do something like that. Wait. No, I'm not."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. "I didn't want ye to hear it from anyone else."

"Nothing happened?"

"No." He did approach her then, taking her by her shoulders and looking into her eyes. "When it comes to Katie Summers, nothing could be further from my mind than a romantic relationship. There's only one woman in town who I'm interested in."

Alison's smile blossomed as she draped her arms over his shoulders. She'd done the same thing the night they had dinner at his home, and he loved how it felt to have her so close to him. "Is that so?"

"Aye."

"And this woman. . .she wouldn't happen to be anyone I know, would she?"

Carson couldn't keep the grin from his face. He pulled her close and touched his forehead to hers. "I believe ye know her well."

"Oh, good." Her eyes sparkled. "As long as I know her and approve of her, then I'm happy."

He laughed, but his gaze was drawn to her lips. Though they'd only been around one another for just under two weeks, Carson had already realized that he would never forget Alison. Rather than saying anything else, he simply leaned in and brushed a soft kiss on her lips.

Alison smiled up at him when he pulled back. "Is that all you've got?" she asked coyly.

Taking that as the obvious invitation it was, Carson well and truly kissed Alison for the first time. She responded immediately, and he pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss. It wasn't the most ideal setting, and Margaret could walk in on them at any moment. But he couldn't allow himself to keep pretending. Alison needed to know how he truly felt, and he felt a ball in the pit of his stomach relax as she returned the kiss. Pulling away, he saw her eyes dilated and couldn't help grinning at the effect he'd had on her.

"Wow!"

"Aye." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Ali. . . ."

She put a finger on his lips. "No words, Carson. Just. . . .enjoy the moment."

He nodded and smiled as she laid her head on his shoulder. This woman was incredible, and the effect she had on his life changed everything. She'd caused his dreams of a family of his own to be resurrected, and he decided right then that he'd follow her wherever her job took her if necessary.

Then, another thought occurred to him, and he couldn't contain the rueful chuckle. Alison lifted her head to give him a questioning smile. "Och, it's nothin', love."

"You kiss me and then giggle?" She grinned. "I want to know why."

He felt the heat starting at his neck again, but it was different this time. "Well, I. . . ." Giving her a sheepish grin, he shrugged. "I remember kissin' other women, but it dawned on me that. . . ."

Her eyes widened. "This was your first kiss!"

"Aye," he said again, this time with a sheepish and somewhat embarrassed expression. Sometimes, being a clone had its advantages. He remembered things that the other Carson had done and was able to avoid those mistakes—primarily because he shared most of the other Carson's memories. At times, it was a disadvantage. He didn't remember things that his friends found utterly hilarious. Still other times proved embarrassing, and this was one of them. "I'm sorry. I just thought about somethin' that Colonel Sheppard would say, an' it struck me as amusing an' embarrassing all that the same time."

Alison put a hand on his face, her thumb brushing the corner of his lips. "Carson, you don't have to worry with me. I know what happened. And I'm. . . ." Her face colored, and he found it utterly adorable. "I'm just glad that it was me."

"Me, too."

They stayed in one another's arms for a few more moments before Alison caught sight of the clock. She frowned. "It's almost lunch time. Do you need to get back to the office?"

Suddenly remembering why he'd come to the coffee house in such a rush, Carson let out a deep breath. "No." He shook his head. "I saw Katie wander past when I first got here. She likely won't come around until next week. I'll sit down and have a talk with her as soon as she gets in. Let her know what I expect from a professional working in the clinic."

Alison nodded sagely. "I could always come around more," she offered.

He grinned. "I'd like that. A lot."

"Good."

They left the office a short time later, and Carson grinned unrepentantly at Margaret when the older woman gave him a confused look. Letting Alison shed the apron she'd been wearing, he moved to her mother's side. "I'm sorry about that, Margaret. I had an employee situation I needed to work out."

"I noticed," Margaret said wryly. She sobered a bit. "Katie Summers is a wild card, Carson. Be prepared for some backlash."

He nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

Alison reappeared, and the two of them picked an out of the way table to share lunch. Rather than keeping up appearances for the sake of others, Carson reached across the table to hold her hand. She dimpled at that, and he remembered what he'd originally been considering when Katie interrupted him. "So, Alison, do ye mind a trip next weekend?"

oOo

The weekend passed pleasantly for everyone. Carson contacted Sheppard, adding his and Alison's names to the list of those attending the John Sheppard Christmas Gala, as it had become known. He also received instructions: pack incredibly warm, bring passports, and be at a set beam-out site at six on Friday morning. When he asked where the group was going, he received a vague "You'll see." Not satisfied, he passed the message on to Alison.

On Sunday evening, he again joined Alison and Margaret for Sunday dinner. He hadn't returned to the church, not wanting to deal with the questions still in his mind. For right now, it was enough that Alison had answered a few of them. Her acceptance of who he was—and _what_ he was—meant the world. She pulled him aside while her mother cleared the table for an impromptu game of poker and asked about his wry thought the day he'd first kissed her. He rolled his eyes and shared what Sheppard would likely say in the situation. _My __God, __I'm __the __Forty-Year-Old __Virgin!_ Alison laughed with him, admitting that it was an unusual situation and one they likely would laugh about for a long time to come. Her thoughts on the future thrilled him, and he forgot about any awkwardness that might have crept into their relationship. By just laughing with him, Alison had told him that it was okay to be open about the dichotomy of his life.

Monday morning, he greeted Jorge as the nurse appeared for work. Still planning to have a talk with Katie, Carson wasn't dreading it like he had before. He figured he'd wait until she arrived, talk with her, and then open the office. When she arrived wearing too-tight jeans, a low-cut blouse, and platform heels, he realized he needed to make certain no one could say anything about their relationship beyond that they worked together.

A patient arrived before he could pull Katie aside. Seeing the concerned mother with her son outside the front door got to Carson, and he gently let them in. The boy was having an asthma attack that hadn't started until they'd left the house, so his mother had driven him to the clinic rather than to school. Carson quickly escorted them to the patient room and set up a breathing treatment. With her son's attack starting to calm, the mother dropped into a stool. Carson sent Jorge for coffee for himself and the mother and spent much of the morning overseeing the child's recovery.

By lunch time, Carson had sent the mother and son on their way. Standing next to the patient files, he made a note in the boy's chart and glanced over at Katie. She was watching him, and he could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Deciding that there was no better time than the present, he leaned against the filing cabinet and folded his arms. "Katie."

"Yes?"

"We need to talk about what happened on Friday." He met her eyes. "It cannot happen again."

Her gaze dropped, and she had the good sense to look slightly embarrassed. "I know. I just. . . ." She pushed to her feet and moved to his side. Carson stepped back a bit as she continued, "You don't feel this?"

He blinked at her. "Feel what?"

"This _drawing_ between us." Her hands moved between them, and she took another step toward him as she tried to gaze deeply into his eyes.

Had he not been so close to the situation, Carson might have laughed at the absurdity of it. Now, he felt like a cornered animal just trying to get away. Stepping backwards again, he spied Jorge watching the entire exchange. "No." Being subtle hadn't worked thus far, so he decided to be blunt. "Katie, you work here. Nothing more."

"But we _could_ have more." She shook her head. "Carson, I don't know how else to tell you this, but I'm falling in love with you. I spent the weekend thinking about it, and I can't just let this go anymore."

Several things happened next. While Katie had been speaking, Alison had walked to the front of the clinic. The sigh of relief that Carson let out wasn't obvious, and he was suddenly grateful he'd told Alison about what was really happening. Katie reached out to take his hand and place it on her chest, babbling on about how he had her heart or some such thing. He tried to pull away, but her grip tightened to the point he'd have to pull her toward him to get out of it.

Alison, however, had no such inhibitions. She reached out and, with a strong move that only Dusty Mehra could have taught her, disengaged Katie's hand from Carson's wrist. "Get your hands off of him!" She stepped between the pair, her back to Carson as she glared at Katie.

Surprised, Katie glared back. "You have no idea what's going on here, little girl. You should leave."

Carson covered a snort with a cough. Out of the pair of women facing one another in his clinic, Katie was the most naïve one of the two. Alison had seen things that would send Katie into hiding and came out on top. Without glancing at him, Alison nodded. "Oh, I know what's going on here. You're trying to seduce my boyfriend!"

"Your _boyfriend_? You don't have a clue what that word means. It's not just sitting around and talking. There's a _lot_ more to it than that."

"I'm well aware of that." Alison never lifted her voice, but she folded her arms and spoke directly to Katie. "I'm also aware that you haven't had a steady relationship since you came to town. You bounce between men, cheating on those you consider your 'boyfriend' just so you can get some piece of jewelry or whatever it is you want. I don't know what it is you want with Carson, but he's not yours. He never was, and you need to learn to keep your hands to yourself."

"Or what?"

"You don't want to find out."

Katie laughed. "What could you do to me?"

Alison's voice dropped an octave. "You don't want to know what I could do to you and get away with."

Realizing that this could spiral out of control, Carson stepped between the two. He'd been stunned by Alison's arrival and subsequent intervention, choosing to stay in the background while the two women glared at one another. However, they were on the verge of a cat fight and, as much as he'd love to see Alison put the other woman in her place, he couldn't allow that to happen. "Ladies." He gave Alison a cheeky grin, trying to let her know that he wasn't angry at her. She never saw it. Turning to Katie, he said, "I think you should leave."

Katie blinked at him. "Are you _firing_ me?"

"No, not unless you intend to continue this behavior." He lowered his chin and met her eyes. "Katie, I'm _not_ interested. I'm dating Alison and very happy in the relationship. Please don't make this scene any worse than it already is. You'll only be embarrassed further."

Katie stared at him, apparently trying to summon some fake tears until he frowned. Then, she straightened. "Fine." Flouncing to her desk, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. As she passed Alison, she leaned over and whispered, "Until next time, little girl."

Alison glared. "Looking forward to it."

No one spoke until the door closed behind Katie. Jorge took his cue and left the couple alone, and Carson grinned at Alison. "Taking a few lessons from Sergeant Mehra?"

Alison covered her face with her hands. "I'm sorry, Carson. It's just that, when I saw what was happening, I couldn't. . . ." Her voice trailed off when he pulled her into his arms.

"You have nothing to be worried about, love." Giving her the same cheeky grin from earlier, he leaned down and whispered into her ear. "That was _hot_!"

The comment, while true, broke the tension. Alison flushed and smacked his arm as she laughed at him. Rather than following through on his initial desire to kiss her right then, he stepped back. "Let me get rid of this lab coat, and we'll get some lunch. Maybe take a walk instead of eating at the coffee house?"

"I'd like that, Carson."

"Good." He headed for his office and pulled off the lab coat, ironically musing that it would be an interesting few days when they got to wherever Sheppard was taking them for Christmas. Others might have thought his relationship with Alison was moving too quickly, but he knew what he wanted when it came to a long-term relationship. And he decided he wouldn't be afraid to find out if he could have it.

~TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Jorge watched in amusement as Beckett and Alison left the office hand in hand. The pair had spent a few moments in the good doctor's office, and he'd not had the heart to interrupt them. After the display he'd seen, he knew Beckett was probably struggling to keep from dragging Alison back to his home for the afternoon. He'd seen the way the doc's eyes had lit up, as well as the smirk that crossed the other man's face. Jorge couldn't blame him. Had his wife nearly taken another woman down, he would have reacted the same way.

He still couldn't believe meek Alison Porter had almost started a cat fight. Though, based on what he knew about her background—namely nothing—Jorge didn't put it past her to take Katie to the mat and walk away with hardly a hair out of place. The smallest ones always surprised him, and Alison was no exception. That she worked for a classified military operation meant she knew enough soldiers to have taught her a thing or two about hand to hand combat. Although he was happily married, Jorge freely admitted that the thought of little Alison appealed to the male side of him. He couldn't imagine what it had done to Beckett, who was actually dating the girl.

They slipped out the back of the clinic, leaving him to watch in silence. As they strolled down the street, Alison slipped her arm through Beckett's and laid her head on his shoulder. As a person, Jorge was thrilled. The doc was alone too often, and seeing him so happy was a relief to a lot of people. In particular, to Jorge. It meant there were fewer women manufacturing excuses to come see the Scottish doctor and try to seduce him. It also meant that Beckett didn't ask as many questions as normal. Though, with the doctor's background, Jorge didn't mind questions. He'd willingly share details with Beckett, but the doc had stayed out of the investigation.

The reason for his presence in the clinic brought Jorge back to his plans for the evening. He had a meeting with his handler, and he had no other information to pass along. Since closing the pharmacy for that brief time while Beckett did an inventory, there had been no further drugs dealt from that location. That could mean two things: Katie was dealing or someone else was using the location. There were several other hot spots for drug distribution in town, however. Esperanza Cafe was one, and the local school was another. Thankfully, none of the drugs had fallen into the hands of younger children, but Esperanza's miniscule K-12 school boasted a healthy drug trade for the older kids. It was only a matter of time before one of Esperanza's precious youngsters got their hands on something.

The commonalities didn't help Jorge any. Katie was common to both the pharmacy and the cafe, but a high school senior waitressed at the cafe, as well. Since the dealing at the pharmacy had stopped, Jorge leaned toward the troubled daughter of a single mom. Clarissa, the girl, worked after school to put food on the table and often took breaks to study between customers at the cafe. Her mother spent more time dating than anything, desperate to find another husband to take care of her. Jorge understood the dilemma she faced, but he hoped the mother woke up before Clarissa ended up in jail. Or worse.

Not really wanting to think about it, Jorge finished closing the clinic for the day and headed for the cafe for dinner. He would have preferred the coffee house, but he refused to show up and bug Beckett again. He saw Alison talking with her mother inside and let out a sigh of relief that he'd been able to clear that whole trio of their involvement in the drug trade going through Esperanza. He'd been here for over a year and knew that the dealing was only a portion of the problem. Methamphetamine was a street drug, but other more expensive drugs, like heroin, passed through Esperanza. So far, the DEA had not been able to pinpoint the exact location of the activity. This town wasn't as idyllic as people like Beckett believed. It had secrets, some of them deadly, and Jorge was determined to learn them. Only then would his job be complete. When his job was complete, he'd think about settling into a similar position as Beckett's. After he'd ensured the town was safe for his family, of course. He couldn't have his newborn son growing up down the street from a meth lab. It just wouldn't work.

oOo

Katie stalked from the clinic, fuming. She'd never been dismissed before, and it stung. On top of that, sweet and innocent Alison thought she could tell Katie what to do. Well, she had another think coming, and Katie was of a mind to march right back into the clinic and show Carson how weak his girlfriend really was.

Instead, she kept walking. Her shoe turned, causing her to stop and catch her balance on a lamp post. Irritated, Katie yanked the shoes from her feet and ignored the cold cobblestones as she stormed home. Once there, she slammed the front door and threw the shoes across the room with a yell. The sound of glass breaking was satisfying, and she looked for something else to throw. Nothing else popped into view, and she dropped her keys on her counter with a growl.

She'd never been so humiliated in her life! Oh, she'd had moments when she felt about as useful and nice as dirt, but she'd never seen such a transformation. The look on Carson's face when he turned to a fuming Alison was nothing short of besotted. Katie wanted him to look at _her_ like that, not at some wimp from the coffee house. What did Alison even do? Surely it couldn't be as important as she acted. Katie couldn't deny the grip that little girl had, but she refused to admit defeat. She would have Carson Beckett as her own, but she would do it in such a way that he wanted to come to her. She wasn't a stalker, after all. She just had her own goals to meet, and Carson was part of them.

All anger fading, Katie sank onto the edge of her bed and dropped her aching head into her hands. She was tired of pretending, tired of scrabbling to live the life she wanted. She had enough money, and she could "retire." But that would mean leaving Carson to Alison. And she couldn't have that. Though it had started as a means to an end, Katie had fallen hard for Carson. That personal investment—that he'd break her heart if he stayed with Alison—kept her from just leaving. That and the consequences if she did. She liked living too much, and she was in way too deep.

oOo

The rest of the week passed in a tense sort of peace. Carson watched Katie warily, seeing how she sulked as she went about her duties. He'd half-expected her to quit—had half-hoped she'd quit. If she walked out, he wouldn't have to constantly spend his days on guard against her. But she'd stopped even speaking to him save for the absolutely necessary conversations. She did her work to with the excellence he'd come to expect but left him alone. Except for glaring at Alison when she appeared for lunch, Katie did nothing to endanger her job.

For his part, Carson quite enjoyed seeing Alison's dander up. Every time she walked into the clinic, she pinned Katie in place with a glare perfected during her time off world. He knew better than to cause it himself, and his grin whenever the two women passed each other was always carefully hidden from them. He'd always assumed that women would fight over Sheppard or Ronon. Seeing it happen because of _him_ really boosted his ego. Of course, it didn't help that Alison obviously told her mother what had happened—not that Carson minded—and Margaret supported her daughter. So did Carson, though he made certain he didn't mention anything about it to Katie or Jorge. Still, two days after the incident, Jorge caught him watching Alison icily glare at Katie as she left the clinic and clapped him on the shoulder. "Down, boy!"

The comment was so out of left field that Carson actually laughed. The coming trip to wherever Sheppard sent them couldn't come quick enough, and he looked forward to removing himself and Alison from the stress of the entire confrontation. Hopefully, things would settle over Christmas and life would return to a semblance of normal.

Early the day of their departure, Carson rose and made breakfast for himself. He and Alison were meeting at a pre-determined beam-out point, Sheppard having informed him that Cheyenne Mountain was providing transportation. It was code for using the _Daedalus's_ transporters—or whichever ship happened to be in orbit. Thankful for not having to spend as much time in transit, he hoped to find time to get his thoughts about Alison straight. He knew what he wanted, but he wanted her to be certain of her future as well. They needed the time away as a couple. He knew a team Christmas wasn't the best way to get it but also realized that Alison would likely enjoy herself.

Once prepared, Carson stowed his luggage in the back of his pickup and drove to Margaret's. The woman was thrilled they were going off together for a weekend, and Carson grinned at her excitement. Margaret had grown into the place of a surrogate mother, and he loved seeing her so happy. Her approval of his relationship with Alison didn't mean she didn't have her reservations, however, and she met him at the door. "She's almost ready."

Carson touched Margaret's elbow as he slipped into the house. "Thank you, Margaret."

"I couldn't keep her here if I wanted to." The older woman met his eyes. "Take care of her."

"I will." He smiled at her. "I promise you, Margaret, that _nothing_ will happen between us."

Margaret snorted. "Quite frankly, I don't want to know about your relationship with my daughter beyond that she's happy. That said, don't break her heart."

He heard the warning and smiled for the benefit of Alison, who appeared at that moment. "You have nothing to worry about there, Margaret."

"Good." Margaret hugged her daughter close and then pulled Carson down for a kiss on the cheek. "You two enjoy yourselves. And don't worry about me. I've got plenty of help in the coffee house, so don't be worried about rushing back."

Alison flushed. "Mom!" She glanced at Carson, her eyes sparkling. "We'll be back on time. There's no way I'm missing Christmas at home."

With another laugh and mock warning glare at Carson, Margaret waved as he backed out of the driveway. Once they were out of eyesight, Carson and Alison exchanged glances and promptly burst into laughter. They left town, driving to a slightly larger town on the way to Albuquerque, storing the truck in a warehouse rented by the SGC for this purpose. Apparently, Landry thought Carson a big enough asset to make certain he could easily get to the SGC. In the warehouse, Carson pulled the luggage from the rear of the truck and activated the radio he'd brought to Esperanza. Moments later, they materialized in the gateroom of Atlantis.

Carson immediately felt the press of Ancient technology on his mind. He'd been away long enough that it was a bit uncomfortable and took a moment to close his eyes. As if sensing his needs, the hum in his mind calmed a bit. He still had an instant headache—much like he'd had whenever he first arrived on Atlantis all those years ago—but it was tolerable. After an hour, he likely wouldn't notice it.

Alison stood next to him, her hand on his elbow. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

"Aye," he answered with a smile. They pulled their luggage from in front of the gate to where Woolsey was waiting for them. "Just a wee headache from the technology."

Woolsey met him. "Dr. Beckett. It's great to see you again." He turned. "And I was surprised to hear you'd be accompanying the group, Dr. Porter."

Alison flushed and glanced at Carson. "Well, I thought it would make a great vacation."

Woolsey wasn't an idiot. He saw the unspoken communication between them and cleared his throat. "Right. Colonel Sheppard would like to see everyone in the mess hall, and then you'll be departing. The SGC has been outfitted with modified transporter technology, so you'll beam directly to your destination."

Thinking he might get some answers out of the city's leader, Carson frowned. "And where is that, exactly?"

Woolsey grinned at him. "I promised Colonel Sheppard I wouldn't say."

Carson shrugged and carried his and Alison's luggage toward the mess hall. They were stopped several times along the way by personnel who wanted to chat with him. Carson smiled as they walked, loving the warmth of the city and allowing himself to imagine that nothing had changed from what he remembered before his captivity. This wasn't a time for regrets or bad memories. Christmas was about family, and he was about to see the only family he still had outside of Alison and Margaret.

A shout of laughter echoed through the mess hall as they entered, and Carson grinned at the sight of Ronon nearly falling out of his chair. Dusty Mehra sat across from the big Satedan, also laughing, and Major Lorne was grinning as he told his story. It was loud, chaotic, and completely familiar to Carson. Teyla sat next to Amanda Cole, and Anne Teldy listened with a bemused expression. The only faces missing from the group were Rodney and Jennifer, who had departed for Canada the day before. Carson didn't begrudge them that trip, especially knowing what Rodney had planned.

Alison immediately grinned as Teldy caught sight of her. She scampered off to join her team, being absorbed by them while Carson watched with a smile. The familiarity the three women displayed reminded him of his own welcome when he was with Sheppard's team.

"Doc." Sheppard startled him, and he turned suddenly.

"Colonel." Carson set down his bag and shook his friend's hand. "Thank you for invitin' us."

Sheppard grinned at him. "It just added to our little group. Couldn't have Porter there and not her friends."

"Aye," Carson agreed. He smiled as Mehra glared at Chuck, who had come up to her and tried to wrap her in his arms. The Marine looked great, if the truth was told. With her hair around her shoulders and a touch of makeup, she looked positively feminine and happy. Teldy was also dressed down, her winter wear giving her a tough look that hid what Carson knew was a lithe body. He glanced at Sheppard. "Sorry about any inconvenience."

Sheppard waved his hand. "Don't give it another thought, Doc. The more, the merrier." He shifted uncomfortably. "Listen, I don't want to pry. But are you and Porter. . .uh. . . ."

Carson flushed at the colonel's insinuation. "No!" He grinned ruefully. "Nothing like that, Colonel."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Is that a 'nothing like that,' meaning not a chance in Hades?" Apparently the colonel was trying to use less profanity, though no one knew why. Carson figured it had something to do with little Torren's presence in their lives. "Or 'nothing like that,' meaning not yet?"

Carson watched Alison, trying to figure out how to answer the question in such a way that wouldn't completely embarrass him. While he didn't mind the team knowing about his feelings for Alison, he didn't want Sheppard knowing exactly how she affected him by just walking through the door. Let alone when she got angry at Katie. That thought caused another smirk to cross his face.

Sheppard snorted. "I think I figured it out, Doc." He leaned close. "I say go for it."

Carson glared, not really upset but wanting to put up a front. "If and when Alison and I cross those lines, Colonel, it will be between myself and her."

Sheppard grinned as if he knew the truth. "Got it, Doc." Moving toward the group, he raised his voice. "Okay, everyone. Thanks for coming to the John Sheppard Christmas Gala. I'm sure you'll enjoy every minute of the festivities. Now, we've arranged for transportation through the SGC, so the passports I asked you to bring won't be necessary. As always, hope you enjoy your flight."

Carson snickered as he slipped to Alison's side. She grinned up at him and leaned into his side, rolling her eyes when Teldy and Mehra exchanged amused glances. A few moments and some coordination later, the group was beamed to their destination.

oOo

Alison's jaw dropped as soon as they materialized. They stood in the middle of a massive great room complete with fireplace, wet bar, glass windows looking out over a breathtaking view, massive sectional couch, huge television and doors leading to parts unknown. A fire roared in the fire place, and all the lights were on. Wood gleamed, and the neutral tones of the furniture only added to the luxurious feel. White fur rugs covered the hardwood floor, and soft music floated from somewhere nearby. Having only seen this type of setting in magazines or on television, Alison couldn't believe her eyes and glanced up to see Carson was equally as shocked.

For his part, Colonel Sheppard stepped forward and looked around with a satisfied grin. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Chateau Schäfer, deep in the heart of the Swiss Alps."

For another long moment, the stunned silence was punctuated by the pop of the fireplace and the soft violin music. Then, Ronon stirred. "What are the Swiss Alps?" he asked, nonplussed. It broke the shock, and the group snickered as they spread out to look around.

The main room consisted of several areas, including a reading nook, breakfast nook, and the breathtaking view of the Swiss Alps. Alison was drawn to the window, the warm golds and woods of the room contrasting with the brilliant blues and whites seen out the window. The Alps rose in sheer drops, and Alison felt a slight thrill at the thought of being in such a luxurious setting. Behind her, Teyla and Ronon drilled Sheppard about the place, and she listened with half of her attention as Sheppard explained that he'd managed to convince his brother to let them use the family chateau for three days. The announcement that this palatial lodge was owned by Sheppard and his brother shocked everyone, and Alison needed a couple of moments to absorb that bit of information.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Carson asked softly as he stepped to her side.

She smiled up at him. "It is." Shaking her head, she chuckled. "I never, in my wildest dreams, thought we'd be coming to the Swiss Alps!"

"Aye," he agreed. Glancing over his shoulder and realizing they had a bit of privacy for the moment, he asked, "I hate to put you in this situation, love, but how much do you want them to know?"

Alison stared up at him and realized his dilemma. They were still new to their relationship and didn't want to embarrass her in front of her team. A quick glimpse of Dusty and Chuck arm-in-arm as they also admired the view settled it in her mind. "I don't care how much they know," she said.

A slow grin covered his face. "Good."

Sheppard drew the group back together long enough to explain that they had no responsibilities while here. A full-time staff would come in to clean and cook, a masseuse was on stand-by, and there was a chopper pilot waiting to take them wherever they wanted to go. Ski equipment was provided, and Alison was surprised to see Carson's eyes light up at the mention of flying down the slopes. Of course, the group would have time for themselves, but the point of the entire outing was to "get away." To Sheppard, that clearly meant no responsibilities.

Once Sheppard handed out room assignments, everyone darted upstairs to settle in. Carson insisted on carrying Alison's things into her room. The two of them stopped to stare. Plush white rugs covered the floors in there as well, and the king-sized bed had two neatly-folded white terrycloth robes on the foot of it. The platform bed was lit from the bottom, the cool white light not taking away from the warmth of the room. A half wall that formed the headboard hid the water closet, sinks, and massive bathtub. Alison could barely wait to soak in it and flushed at the thought of Carson joining her. It was too early to be entertaining such ideas, she thought, but she knew how she felt about him.

Turning to study the equally breathtaking view in this room, she shook her head. "I'll get lost in here."

"Aye," Carson agreed. She suspected it was because he couldn't say anything else. After setting her luggage down, he pulled her into his arms. "Are ye sorry you came?"

"No," she said instantly. Draping her arms around his neck she stood on tip-toe to kiss him. "I think a break from Esperanza was what I needed."

He didn't answer but simply kissed her again. By the time he slipped out to head to his own room, Alison had abandoned all ideas of a hot soaking bath. Instead, she explored the room and seriously considered finding out how cold the water in the shower really was.

~TBC

**Author's Note:** Btw, "Schäfer" is German for "shepherd." A fitting name for the chateau, I thought. :) As always, let me know what you think. ~lg


	17. Chapter 17

Alison woke slowly the next morning and stretched. The luxurious sateen sheets were warm, and the soft mattress hugged her frame. She opened her eyes and grinned at the floor-to-ceiling windows. Her room faced east, and the sun had risen some time ago. However, still being on US time had thrown all of their systems for a loop. Last night, the team had shared a sumptuous dinner prepared by a gourmet chef and spent more time laughing than Alison remembered. Teyla had asked about Christmas traditions and then proposed a shopping trip for the group. The guys hadn't been too keen on the idea of spending the day shopping, so it was decided that the men would ski while the women shopped. Ironically, Carson suggested the idea.

Thinking about him now made her smile widen. She sat up and, after dressing, slipped onto the balcony through a French door. The cold air cut right through the warmest coat she'd brought, and she realized she needed to get some better clothing for her time here. It was totally different from her home, and she loved the scenery.

"Och, good morning!" Carson's surprised voice made her whirl on her heel. Alison grinned as he stood in the door of his own room.

"I'm assuming the shared balcony was Sheppard's idea?"

"Aye," he said with a grin. Moving to her side, he pulled her into his arms. "You're tremblin', love. Are ye cold?"

"Yes." Alison rubbed her face in his chest, savoring the warmth of his body. "South-central New Mexico doesn't prepare you for this!"

He agreed with a chuckle and led her into his room. It didn't have a fireplace like hers, and the ceilings were of a more reasonable height rather than the vaulted ceilings. It did have a separate bathroom, however, and the bed design was the same. The two terrycloth robes had been stacked on a chair near the flat screen television, and Carson reached for the watch he'd not yet put on. "Perhaps you should think about getting something a bit warmer while you're shoppin' today."

"Good idea." She eyed him. "You're going skiing?"

"Aye." The warmth in his voice spoke of fond memories. "When I was a lad, my mum and da' would take us skiing at Aviemore in the winter."

"Sounds fabulous."

"Och, it was." He shook his head. "Now that I think about it, Colonel Sheppard knew exactly what he was doin' by bringin' us here. There are plenty of amazing views for Major Lorne to paint, skiing for me, snowboarding for him and Ronon, activities for the ladies."

Alison nodded and allowed him to escort her out of his room. She'd always thought she'd feel a bit more embarrassment over their relationship—especially surrounded by military people—but everyone, including Dusty, seemed to take it in stride.

Downstairs, Sheppard was helping himself to the breakfast buffet spread out on the kitchen counter. Ronon sat at the glass-and-wood dining table, stuffing bacon, eggs, and toast into his mouth. Teldy, who insisted on being called Anne, had joined the Satedan, looking completely at home in a black long-sleeved button down blouse and jeans. The major had let her hair down, and it swirled around her shoulders in a look that was distinctly feminine but still tough. Laughter from the stairs pulled Alison's attention from the sight, and she saw Chuck and Dusty appear. Atlantis's gate tech was ruffling Dusty's ponytail, and she tried to keep his hands off of her while still grinning suggestively.

Sheppard grinned at everyone. "Morning!"

Carson returned the greeting and handed a plate to Alison. She mused that he seemed quite at home in this environment and decided to take her cues from him. Then, she caught sight of Dusty. The sergeant had straightened, and all signs of her flirting with Chuck disappeared.

Sheppard also saw the change. "Mehra."

"Sir?"

"Relax." Sheppard carried his plate to the table and set it down beside Ronon with a warning glare at the Satedan. He clearly didn't trust Ronon when leaving his plate at the table. When he turned back to face Dusty, Ronon snuck a piece of bacon from the plate and gave Alison a smirk. Sheppard never noticed as he frowned at Dusty. "The entire point of this trip is to relax, to forget about our jobs for a few days."

Dusty allowed her posture to slip marginally. "Yes, Sir."

Meanwhile, Ronon slipped another piece of bacon from the colonel's plate, and Alison realized he was doing it to get a rise out of Sheppard.

The colonel frowned. "Mehra."

"Sir."

"The name's John." He sat down and stared at his plate, seeing the empty spot that had been filled with bacon a moment ago. "You know, Big Guy, I _am_ teaching you to snowboard today. You might want to remember that."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Ronon asked as he sat back in his chair.

Alison shared a grin with Carson as he held her chair for her to sit down next to Anne. She shook her head, already loving the family environment that had developed and looked around. A Christmas tree had been added to the room overnight, its white lights sparkling with elegant decorations. Only a few boxes were under it, but she intended to add to that after the morning's shopping trip.

The rest of the group eventually joined them, Teyla being the only one to appear without an escort. Lorne fixed a plate for both himself and Amanda, and Alison grinned at the signs of intimacy between them. She caught Carson's amused expression and realized that they would hopefully share something similar one day. Conversation flowed, with the men talking to one another about their plans for the slopes. Carson showed his knowledge of the sport when he began asking questions about which slopes they planned to use, difficulty level, types of skis, and other technical information. The group was surprised until he explained that he'd been skiing for years.

Just as everyone finished eating, Sheppard produced a crystal bowl with little slips of paper inside. "I've written down names. We're doing a team Christmas, which means we're doing presents. Everyone gets a name to buy a gift for." It was such a Sheppard move that everyone laughed.

The crystal bowl passed from hand to hand, and Alison chose a name before glancing at the piece of paper. _Chuck __Campbell_. She eyed Dusty and wondered if she should enlist the Marine's help in purchasing something for a man she knew absolutely nothing about. A glance at Carson showed him looking quite confident with his selection, and she sighed. She'd likely get no help from him.

Breakfast ended with laughter and jumbled plans for the day. The women headed for the garage, where a driver waited to take them down the mountain to a nearby village. Before she slipped outside, Carson pulled Alison to the side and pulled her into his arms. "Enjoy yourself today, love." He smiled.

She grinned. "I will. Be safe."

He put his hands on her shoulders. "I've been skiing since I was a lad. I'll be fine."

In spite of Anne arriving just at that moment, Alison stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips. He returned it momentarily and then waved as she climbed into their ride to the village. Teyla watched the passing scenery with interest, but Dusty smirked at her as she unwrapped a piece of bubble gum. Alison glared. "Oh, like you wouldn't do the same to Chuck."

Anne snickered. "No. If it were Chuck, she'd still be back there after having dragged his butt upstairs!"

Alison laughed along with Amanda.

In the village, they stopped at a clothing store long enough for Alison to purchase a warm jacket and boots. Then, they strolled the shops, looking for anything that interested them. Not surprisingly, Dusty was drawn to the knife shop, and Teyla joined her. With a longsuffering sigh, Amanda and Alison followed them while Anne slipped into the coffee house next door. Normally, Alison would have been tempted to join her team leader, but having worked in her mother's coffee shop for the last several weeks made places like that lose their appeal.

Knives were everywhere. Teyla merely browsed while Dusty asked the proprietor question after question. Finally, she stopped at a case containing several high quality daggers. Dusty asked to see one, weighing it in her hands.

"That is _sgian-dubh_," the proprietor said with heavily-accented English.

Dusty blinked. "What?"

"Scottish knife." The man's words brought Alison's head around, and she moved to Dusty's side as the guy pointed out the various differences. He explained that Scotsmen wore them in the top of their hose and that it was part of their traditional costume. Dusty nudged Alison with an elbow but didn't need to say anything.

Alison looked over the selection. There were only a few there, but one caught her eye. "Can I see that one, please?"

The proprietor lifted a blade from the black velvet. It had a warm wooden hilt—which the proprietor called bog wood—and was set with yellowy-brown colored stones. Celtic designs had been acid etched into the blade, and the scabbard was black leather with silver accents. Alison stared at it carefully, her mind whirling as she thought about what she'd wanted to get Carson for Christmas. It wasn't much, primarily because she'd drawn a blank. She wanted something different, something that wasn't tied to his life's work as a doctor. A smile crept across her face, and she met the proprietor's eyes. "I'll take it."

"Wait." Dusty held up a hand to stop Alison from reaching for her wallet. She picked up the small knife, also testing its weight as she looked around. Her gum popped as she thought, and she suddenly flipped the knife so that she held the blade.

"Dusty, I don't think it's meant. . . ." Alison's voice trailed off as Dusty threw the knife. The proprietor ducked instinctively, and Teyla whirled at the sound. The knife stuck in the corkboard behind the register, wiggling a bit from the force. Alison blinked. ". . .to be thrown. I'll take it."

The proprietor nodded while giving Dusty a wary glance. The Marine merely blew a bubble and went back to shopping.

Though the blade had a very high price, Alison gladly paid it, thankful she'd thought to bring extra cash from her saving's account. It really didn't matter, she realized. Although he couldn't return home, she would give Carson something of his homeland. It would mean more to him than just about anything.

The girls finished their shopping trip shortly after lunch and headed back to the chateau. Watching the place come into view as they rounded the curves in the mountain was breathtaking, and Alison grinned. A private set of ski slopes was behind the chateau, and she saw several dark figures flying down the side of the mountain.

After storing her purchases in her room, Alison headed out the back door. She glanced up in time to see Sheppard and Ronon expertly snowboard down one slope. Lorne was somewhere behind, and Carson criss-crossed his way down another, more advanced slope. She grinned at the sight of the man she loved smiling at her as he came to a halt with snow flying. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her new coat, she stepped over to him as he pulled his sunglasses from his face.

"Have a good time, love?" he asked as he released his feet from the skis.

"I did." She smiled as he leaned in to claim a slow kiss. When he pulled back, she chuckled. "You're cold!"

"Aye." He glanced up. "I'm going to give it a go once more, an' then I think I'll be comin' inside."

She touched his arm. "Take your time, Carson. This trip is as much for you as it is for me."

"I know." He nodded. "But that doesn't mean I can't spend time with you, either."

Happy with life in general, Alison headed back inside to warm herself by the fire. She then slipped into her room to wrap the last of her gifts and put them under the Christmas tree. Coming to the Swiss Alps, while unexpected, felt like the best thing she could have done in her life.

oOo

Carson wasn't quite sure exactly what happened. One second, he was flying down the slopes with the cold Alpine wind in his face. The next, he was sliding head-first into a tree trunk. His right wrist sent sharp pain up his arm, but he could move his fingers easily. It indicated a sprain as opposed to a broken bone. His skis were still on his feet, and he sat up. Nausea swamped him immediately, and he blinked away the pain in his head. Fairly certain he was concussed, he looked to see who had hit him.

Ronon lay a short distance away, breathing heavily as if in pain. The Satedan was conscious, however, and trying to push himself to a seated position.

"Don't move, lad," Carson said softly. He crawled to Ronon's side, using his teeth to tug his gloves from his hands. He ran his hands over Ronon's upper arms and shoulders, stopping when the Satedan cried out. He moved the big man's jacket back to examine a spot on his shoulder. "Okay, lad, you'll be fine. I think ye've managed to fracture your clavicle, but we'll wait until we're inside to figure it out.

Sheppard joined them as Carson began removing Ronon's snowboard from his feet. "Doc? You okay?"

Carson glanced up, wincing at the brightness of the sunshine. "Aye. A bit concussed, but otherwise fine. We didn't happen to bring any medical gear with us, did we?"

"No, but I can probably get some beamed over." Sheppard dropped to his knees next to Ronon. "I told you not to try that stunt."

"When have I ever listened to you, Sheppard?" Ronon asked with a bite in his voice. Carson knew the Satedan wasn't angry at anyone and likely in a great deal of pain.

Lorne, as inexperienced at skiing as Ronon was at snowboarding, finally joined them. Sheppard gave him quick instructions on getting Carson back to the chateau and glared at Ronon. A quick check told Carson he could stand, though his head pounded. He rotated his wrist, using his left hand to perform a quick check. It hurt badly, but the swelling wasn't too severe. Instead of following Sheppard's instructions, he told Lorne to help the colonel get Ronon to his feet and back to the chateau. Then, he oversaw their efforts to get there.

Alison was kneeling in front of the Christmas tree, clearly having put some gifts beneath it, when they tumbled through the door. Ronon's eyes were squeezed shut in pain, but he hadn't made a sound. Carson quickly directed Lorne and Sheppard to get the big guy to the couch while turning to Alison. "I need ye to get Amanda, love."

She nodded with wide eyes. "Are you okay, Carson?"

"Aye, just a wee bit of a concussion an' hurt wrist." He smiled. "I'll be fine."

Though worried, she accepted him at his word and scurried upstairs. Carson eased Ronon's jacket from his shoulders to get a better look at the injury. Turning to Sheppard, he said, "Colonel, would you have a hand-held scanner and a medical kit sent from Atlantis? Ideally, he'll be in a sling but it won't interrupt the vacation too badly. Though," he continued with a glance at Ronon, "I don't know how much more snowboardin' you'll be doing."

Sheppard quickly pulled out a radio and contacted the SGC. A short, low conversation ensued, and Carson put a hand on Ronon's shoulder. "Just hang in there, lad. I'll have some morphine for ye in no time."

"I'm sorry, Doc," Ronon said through gritted teeth.

Carson smiled. "Don't give it another thought." He turned as Amanda appeared. "From wha' I can tell, he's got a fracture in his left clavicle, and. . . ."

Amanda put a hand on his shoulder. "I've got it, Carson." She gave him a gentle smile. "You need to take care of yourself."

Realizing she was right, he stepped back and allowed her to examine Ronon. Alison put a hand on his arm and led him to another chair. Kneeling in front of him, she met his eyes. "How are you?"

"Oh, head's throbbin' a wee bit. It's nothing serious, love. Just a mild concussion." He frowned. "An' I think I sprained my wrist. Considerin' that I was skiin', I'm lucky it wasn't much more than that."

Alison nodded her agreement as a bright light flashed behind her. A medical kit, complete with scanner, materialized from an Asgaard beam. Alison stopped him from getting to his feet with a firm hand on his shoulder. "What do you need?"

Carson sighed, frustrated he couldn't just get up and get things for himself. "Some Tylenol an' an Ace bandage to wrap my wrist."

She went to get the items while Amanda ran the scanner over Ronon's body. A few moments later, the other doctor turned. "You were right, Carson. He'll be in a sling for a few weeks, but he'll make a full recovery."

"Good to hear, lass," Carson said with a smile. He accepted the Tylenol Alison brought him and dry swallowed the tablets. Then, he shrugged out of his own heavy jacket to wrap his wrist.

The day had been tempered by the injuries, and the group settled in to enjoy a movie as the sun set. Ronon drifted to sleep as a result of the heavy doses of pain medication Amanda had given him, and Carson happily invited Alison to share the large chair he'd chosen for the day. By the time the evening meal was prepared, the nausea had tapered off enough to allow him to eat.

After dinner, he wearily climbed the stairs to his room. He hated that their vacation had been interrupted by injuries, but he was grateful to have his family so close around him. He slipped onto the balcony he shared with Alison and stared over the amazing scenery. A snowstorm was settling into the area, and it would soon be too cold to be outside. But, for now, he wanted the time to reflect on the day.

He hadn't felt this fulfilled in a long time. Not since moving to Esperanza. A glance down at his wrapped wrist reminded him of the concern he'd had for Ronon, as well as the trust his friends had placed in him. _No,_ he reminded himself. _They're __family._ That realization alone made him smile. He'd spent so much time grieving for the "loss" of his biological family that he had overlooked the family still in his life. Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, McKay, Jennifer, Amanda, Lorne, Anne, Dusty, and Chuck had replaced his siblings. He didn't include Alison in that group because what he felt for her was _nothing_ like what he felt for his siblings!

"Carson?" The object of his thoughts moved to his side.

He turned. "I'm just thinkin', love."

She nodded. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"Aye, me too." He shook his head. "I'm still a wee bit surprised I came away with only a sprained wrist. Most ski accidents include ACL injuries and surgery."

She winced. "Ronon was downstairs, fussing because it hurts."

Carson chuckled at that. "He always did hate to be in the infirmary." His voice turned wistful as he thought about his life. He missed this family atmosphere. He missed Atlantis.

Alison put a hand on his arm. "Carson, are you sure you're okay?"

He faced her. "I'm thinkin' about my decision to move to Esperanza." When her face fell, he nudged her chin up. "I'm not sorry I met your mum or reconnected with you. Nothin' could be further from the truth."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm questionin' my decision that I didn't belong in Atlantis." He let out a deep breath. "When I left, I thought it was because I needed to find my place, to figure out who I am outside of _him_. But, bein' here with the team has showed me that I _am_ him. I have his friendships with these people, I have his motivations, his stubbornness, everything that made Carson Beckett who he was. I realize I'm different, that I have nearly two year's worth of memories that he didn't have, but that's not what's important. All this time, I struggled to accept that. But today, with Ronon, made me realize that I can never be separated from him."

Alison didn't comment, but merely waited.

"I'm sorry." Carson smiled at her. "I haven't taken time to truly think about all of this in a while, an' I'm just surprised my thoughts on it have changed so drastically."

"So, does this mean you'll be leaving Esperanza?"

Rather than giving her an answer, he decided to get her opinion. "What would you want?"

She blinked. "Me?"

He chuckled at her surprise. "Ali-love, you've got to realize that I've got more to my life now than just my work in Pegasus or my work in Esperanza. I know we haven't dated for long, but I know where my mind is headed. I cannae imagine life without ye, an' I don't want to. So, my future doesn't just include what I want. It's also got to include what you want."

To his surprise, tears formed in her eyes. "You really mean that? You would give up everything for me?"

Rather than answering, he leaned forward and kissed her. The kiss built, and she was the one to pull him close to her. For a long time, the balcony was silent as they explored this new dimension in their relationship. When he finally pulled back to get some air, she had buried her hands in his hair and now held his face near hers. "Carson, I don't know what to say!"

"Don't say anything, love," he said softly. "Tonight's not about decisions."

She smirked at him and leaned in for another kiss. He put a stop to things before either of them lost control completely, but the thought of sharing physical intimacy with her now meant more to him than it ever had. When they did cross that line, it wouldn't be due to emotions running high from an injury. He wanted Alison to know how much he loved her before they both did something they'd regret. Still, he was unable to resist capturing a final kiss before heading inside to his own room.

That night, he drifted to sleep thinking about that wonderfully breathless expression on her face and how she'd whispered his name just before he kissed her goodnight.

~TBC

**Author's Note:** As Carson says in this chapter, most skiing accidents include ACL injuries and surgery because of the way skis fit on a person's feet. It is incredibly rare for such minor injuries to happen to a person, but Carson's a naturally lucky guy. As for Ronon's injuries, most snowboarding accidents cause damage to a person's torso and upper body. As always, hope you enjoyed the chapter! ~lg


	18. Chapter 18

_Blood was everywhere. He stood over the young lady on the ground, staring down as she tried to roll over and face him. He'd begged for her life and had received a blow to the gut, as well as one to the kidneys, for his troubles. Then, as he'd barely had time to recover his breath and straighten, Michael had acted. The knife had flashed in the dim light, but it was the girl's sudden gasp of air that told him what had happened. Then, she'd bonelessly slid from Micheal's grip to fall on the floor, leaving the bloody knife in Michael's hand._

"_You will do the research I have asked. Or, I will do this to another of your friends tomorrow. And the next day. And every day you refuse." Michael's cold words were followed by the clang of the iron door that kept him in his prison._

_Gasping for air, he dropped to his knees. Something was wrong. The girl's hair had darkened, and she groaned in pain. He reached for her shoulder and rolled her over. Alison stared up at him._

"_Oh, God!" He scrambled backwards, his back painfully connecting with the pitiful bench Michael gave him for a bed. The adrenaline kicked in, his professional detachment taking over, and he ripped off is jacket to press into the wound on her side. Alison cried out in pain, but he steadied her with a calm hand on her shoulder._

_There was nothing he could do. He had no medications, no surgical implements. Even a knife, needle, and thread might have saved her life. Michael knew exactly what he was doing when he brought Alison to his cell. Besides the inner confusion of how Alison had wound up here, of all places, he knew that this was the cruelest form of torture._

_She bled out too quickly, and she reached for him with a bloodstained hand. "Carson," she said softly. Her eyes were on his, and he took her hand as he blinked back the tears._

"_I'm so sorry, love," he whispered. _

_Her amazing blue eyes drifted closed. She forced them open and looked to him again. "Carson." A smile touched her face. "I love you."_

"_And I love you." He felt the tears drip down his face and didn't care. Why did he realize this so late? Why did he have to understand the depth of his emotions right at the final moment, when her life ebbed from her eyes? Her head rolled to one side, and he blinked. "Alison?" Frantically, he checked for a pulse and found none. "No!" He started chest compressions. "No! Don't do this! No!"_

The shout echoed in his head as Carson sat upright in his bed. He stared frantically at his hands, looking for blood when nothing was there. The chandelier hung in silence over his bed, looming in the darkness as he reached for the bedside table. Moving made the nausea worse, and Carson abandoned his idea of turning on the lights in favor of rushing to the water closet. He barely made it before his body purged the remnants of his meal the night before.

Sliding down onto the cold tile floor in the luxurious bathroom, he lifted shaking hands to his face. He'd dreamed about that day before, but he'd never replaced the people in his dreams so vividly. The vague nightmares he'd had in the past of his friends rescuing him and not surviving paled in comparison. It spoke of his emotions of how he truly felt. And he'd said the words in his dream that he'd wanted to say for days. Only, in his dream, it had been too late. It reminded him of Perna, of Laura, of every woman he'd ever loved and lost, only magnified ten times by the horror that permeated him.

"Oh, God!" A horrible thought occurred to him, one he knew was driven by the residual terror of his dream. He rushed to his feet, flipping on every light in his room as he went. It was snowing outside, but the temperature didn't even register on his bare feet. In some clinical part of his brain, he knew the danger of exposure here in the Alps, knew he shouldn't be outside without protection. But his emotions were in control, driving him to do things so out of character that he couldn't stop himself.

He and Alison had enjoyed the shared balcony. Last night, before retiring, they'd slipped outside to share a few moments alone. The thick coats and gloves they'd worn hadn't cooled the passion between them, and Carson had retired with a grin and wondering if he was moving too fast. Alison didn't seem to think so, however, and he had drifted to sleep remembering the breathless expression on her face after he kissed her.

Now, he peered in the window into her room. At any other time, he would have felt intrusive for doing so. The night was dark, the sky covered in thick clouds that swirled around him. He felt the bite of snow, but there was enough light from his room for him to see her. She slept partially rolled onto her back, the luxurious blankets pushed to her waist and an arm thrown above her head. Her face was turned toward him, highlighted in the dim glow coming from his room. She looked so peaceful there, and he allowed his eyes to travel the length of her form under the covers. Her pajama top had come up a bit in the night, revealing a creamy patch of her stomach.

Then, as he watched, her face scrunched. She used the hand above her head to rub at her eyes, and she snagged the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders as she rolled toward him.

Carson pulled away from the window and walked to the railing of the balcony. The view from this balcony was phenomenal during the day. They could see the Matterhorn in the distance, as well as the sparkling lights of the tiny village below. But Chateau Schäfer was isolated from that town, and the team had enjoyed the freedom to simply be themselves outside of their work. Now, however, the clouds had settled over the region, shrouding everything in dimness that some would consider beautiful. Having spent too much time on Wraith hives and in Michael's labs, Carson knew the mist could contain anything.

The cold finally got to him, and he let out a deep breath as he dropped his chin to his chest. If he returned inside now, he'd be okay. But he couldn't go back to that room. Even with the lights on, the demons of his past still hovered in the darkness. It was the most vivid dream he'd ever had, and he hated that it held him hostage right then. He felt almost as if he'd be grabbed and dragged right back to that cold cell if he so much as stepped inside.

A warm hand settled onto his arm, and he jumped back, his eyes wide as an involuntary cry ripped from his throat.

oOo

A beam of bright light woke Alison from a sound sleep. She rubbed her face and then rolled onto her side, trying to ignore it. The covers pulled up to her shoulders were warm, and she managed to drift for a few moments before coherence set in. The light came from her balcony, not an open door in her mother's home. Blinking, she reached for the watch on her bedside table and frowned. It was just past two in the morning, and she and Carson hadn't retired until shortly after midnight. Had something happened with his injuries from the previous day?

Concerned, she pushed back the covers and reached for the boots she'd picked up during the shopping trip she'd taken with Dusty and Teldy. Her teammates thought it incredibly sweet—and definitely tease-worthy—that she considered Carson when buying cold weather gear. But, coming from south-central New Mexico didn't prepare her for the frigid Alps. Now, she ignored the pajamas she still wore and pulled on the thick coat.

Carson stood at the balcony railing, wearing only a t-shirt and pajama pants. His feet were bare, and his head hung low. Alison moved carefully to his side. "Carson?"

He didn't answer. When she got close to him, she reached out and touched his arm. His skin was cold to the touch, and he was trembling. Before she could do much more, he jumped back, his eyes wild as he stared at her. She blinked. The expression on his face was something she'd never seen before, and the panic in his eyes concerned her. Part of her—the part that kept her calm in a crisis—realized that he must have had a flashback. The part of her that loved him was crushed that he stared at her with such fear.

"Alison?" His soft voice broke the utter silence. He ran a hand over his face, but the fear didn't leave his eyes. "Ali-love, are ye okay?"

She smiled. "I'm fine, Carson." She reached out for him again and was rewarded with his swift move to pull her into his arms. She felt the desperation in his body and wondered what had happened. He tucked his head into her hair, pressing a kiss against her scalp as he breathed deeply of the shampoo she'd used the day before. It was intimate and thrilling and heartbreaking all at once. When she felt his grip slacken ever so slightly, she pulled away. "Carson, you need to come inside." She tugged him toward his brightly lit room.

"No!" The hoarse word seemed almost ripped from his throat.

"Okay, how about my room?" She pulled him toward the door. "I'll light a fire, and we can talk or whatever you want."

He nodded and allowed her to pull him into the warmth of her room. A quick move lit the lamps next to her bed, and she wished there was more room to sit other than on the bed. She supposed it couldn't be helped, and she watched him run a hand over the animal print comforter. He settled on the edge, looking very lost, and her heart broke. Closing the door, she ignored the light coming from his room and slipped out of her thick jacket. The fireplace was lit in no time, and she perched next to him.

"I'm sorry." He seemed to be regaining control of his emotions. The cold had obviously caught up to him because he'd crossed his arms and had stuck his hands under his arms.

Alison reached for a fur-lined throw blanket she'd found after she first arrived. "Here." Wrapping it around his shoulders, she leaned into him and smiled when he pulled the blanket around the two of them. "I'm sorry I startled you."

"Don't be, love." His voice had returned to its normal warmth, and he fussed over the blanket, making sure it was tucked around her as well. Although they were cold, the feel of his hands brushing against her arms sent a shiver down her spine. He didn't seem to notice. "I just dreamed, an' I sometimes don't fully wake after one."

She nodded and slipped her arms around his waist. "I understand."

They sat like that for a few moments, the two taking comfort from one another. Alison's mind went over the last few moments, and she realized that he likely wouldn't return to that room for the remainder of the night. Lifting her head, she smiled at him. "Do you mind if I go turn off all the lights next door?"

At her words, he grinned but let her push to her feet. She grabbed her jacket for the quick excursion outside and then left him in her room. Tonight would not be about passion, she realized, and she was okay with that. Carson needed safety right now. She shook her head as she looked for every light switch his room possessed. Out of all the men she'd ever known, Carson Beckett was one of the strongest she'd met. She didn't know many who could survive two years as Michael's prisoner, the realization he was a clone, months in a stasis pod, and the knowledge that he could never return to the home he remembered. It would have driven others mad by now. Instead, he used it to build a life for himself. It didn't surprise her that he also needed reassuring during moments like this.

She found him sitting on the foot of her bed, his elbows braced on his knees as he stared at the fireplace. The blanket was still draped over his shoulders, but he appeared to have stopped trembling. His hair stood on end in an adorable manner, and he glanced over when she slipped back inside. Pushing to his feet, he took her jacket as she shrugged out of it and laid it over the back of the room's single chair.

Seeing him return to his normal charming self helped the knot in Alison's stomach unclench. He'd be okay. Giving him a smile, she rearranged the pillows on her bed to accommodate the two of them sitting up and talking. It reminded her of late nights in college, when she and her roommate had stayed up way too late talking about guys and parties. Not that she'd ever gone to said parties. This time, however, Carson joined her and pulled her into his arms. Instead of sitting cross-legged, they stretched out beside one another. Alison laid her head on his shoulder and listened to his heartbeat as he held her close.

"I dreamed about you," he said softly after several long moments. She shifted enough to look into his face, but his eyes were on the fireplace, watching the flames eat at the logs. He shook his head. "I was back there, back with Michael. When I refused to do wha' he wanted, he brought a young lady to my cell. Couldn't ha'e been more than twenty years old. An' he killed her in cold blood.

"I don't think about that day often." He blinked and finally met her eyes. "It's the day I did wha' he wanted because he said he'd do it to another human every day until I agreed. But, tonight. . . ."

Alison didn't need him to spell out what he'd dreamed. Telling her about the incident and adding her into the mix was enough for her to deduce what had happened. She laid her head back on his shoulder and tightened her hold on him. "I'm right here, Carson. I'm not going anywhere."

His hands moved on her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. Alison smiled, thinking that something so simple as a hug could have such a profound influence on her. And on him, for that matter. He kissed her head again before moving quickly. Pushing up on his elbow, he met her eyes with absolute clarity. "Alison, you need to understand how much I love you." He put a finger on her lips when she tried to speak. "I'm not sayin' this to get anythin' from you beyond an understandin' that you know. In my dream, I dinnae get the chance to tell ye, an' I cannae go on thinkin' I might not have it."

It wasn't the romantic way in which she had dreamed of hearing those words, but she didn't care. She leaned close and planted a soft kiss on his lips. It could have gotten out of control, but he apparently realized that this night wasn't about anything more than getting things said. After a moment, in which he methodically and gently stole her breath, he pulled back. She smiled up at him, trying to get her heart rate to return to a reasonable level. "I love you, too, Carson." She shrugged and then curled into his side again. "I think I knew it when we went to Albuquerque."

He chuckled. "You certainly enjoyed the guest lecture."

Alison felt her face heat and buried it into his chest. He laughed again and held her close. A few moments later, he let out a deep breath. His body relaxed slowly, and he drifted to sleep with her in his arms.

oOo

The morning sun woke Alison, and she smiled at the view through her windows. She'd obviously turned in the night, but Carson hadn't let her get away that easily. His arm was draped over her waist, gently reminding her of what had happened the night before. She rolled toward him and blinked. He slept soundly, all the lines in his face disappearing as he rhythmically breathed in and out. It warmed her to see him so comfortable in her bed, but she pushed aside the natural response of a woman seeing such an attractive man in her bed. Carson had needed the night before. He'd needed to react, to talk, to know that she wouldn't hold the strange moments when his past roared into the present against him.

Her bladder finally urged her to get out of bed. She carefully slipped out from under his arm, mindful of the sprained wrist, and used the facilities. He still hadn't moved when she returned, telling her that he needed the rest as much as she had. A quick glance at her watch told her it was well past ten in the morning, and the team had likely already eaten. She hoped no one said anything about their absence at breakfast, but she couldn't bring herself to be ashamed.

She managed to dress for the day and slip from the room without waking him. In fact, he never moved beyond breathing deeply, and she wondered when he'd last slept so well. Of course, the mild concussion he'd sustained in yesterday's accident with Ronon had to be helping him rest.

Downstairs, Ronon sat in front of the fireplace with his leg propped on the couch as he watched a movie and fiddled with his sling. He glanced up as she headed for the kitchen. "Hey. How's the doc?"

Alison's face heated slightly as she changed directions. "He's resting."

Ronon narrowed his eyes. "What happened?"

Thankful that the Satedan was more observant and gentle than most thought of him, she dropped into a chair next to the couch. "He had a nightmare of his time with Michael."

That simple explanation made Ronon nod. "How bad?"

"Bad."

"He'll make it."

"I know." Alison smiled. "I'm just. . . ." Her voice trailed off as she realized she was discussing the man she loved with a man who had always intimidated her slightly.

Ronon leaned forward and looked her in the eye. "He loves you, and if you keep doing what you're doing, you have nothing to worry about." His voice had hints of determination in it, and she realized he was speaking from personal experience.

"Thanks, Ronon," she said as she pushed to her feet. He let her go, and Alison fixed two plates of fruit, toast, and a pot of coffee while thinking about the Runner's words. _He __loves __you_. Even his friends had seen how Carson treated her. It was both heartwarming and embarrassing at the same time. Though, the more she thought about it, the more her embarrassment faded. She carefully carried the plates upstairs and found that Carson was still asleep. He'd rolled to face the door, and she set the breakfast tray on the small desk next to the door. Then, moving to the windows, she wrapped her arms around herself and admired the scenery while waiting for the man behind her to stir for the day.

oOo

When Carson did wake, he was warm, comfortable, and felt rested for the first time in weeks. The memory of his dream, while still horrifying, faded as he blinked in the bright sunshine. He was in Alison's room, and he smiled at how comfortable it felt to wake in her domain. Not that she'd done anything beyond scattering minor touches of herself here and there. The jacket over the back of the chair hadn't been moved, and he remembered how she'd smelled as she'd settled next to him for the remainder of the night. It had been more intimate than just about anything, and he wanted to experience that for the rest of his life.

He finally managed to get his eyes to stay open and looked around the room. The view through the windows was fantastic just as it was anywhere else in the house, and the sky showed only remnants of last night's snowstorm. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, and he finally found Alison watching him with an amused expression. She raised an eyebrow. "Decided to join the land of the living?"

He chuckled at that. "Aye." Rubbing his hands over his face, he pushed himself upright. "I'm sorry for. . . ."

"Don't you even think about apologizing!" Her sharp words interrupted him, but the smile on her face as she set aside the book she'd been reading softened the blow. She stood and walked over to him, her jeans and bulky sweater only accenting her curves. Perching on the side of the bed, she shrugged. "I quite liked having you here."

He held her gaze for a long moment, the teasing of a few moments ago fading as he read the emotion in her eyes. She really didn't hold it against him, and she leaned slightly toward him.

He smiled. "I'd kiss you, but. . . ."

"Carson?" she interrupted again.

"Aye?"

"Shut up." That amusing instruction was followed her lips on his, and he stopped thinking about having just woke from the best sleep he'd had in months. He responded immediately to her kiss, pulling her closer to him though they didn't fall back onto the bed. The passion built, however, and he buried his hands in her hair as he pulled her closer to him. When he finally eased back, she'd climbed onto the bed to avoid melting onto the floor, and her eyes were just as dilated as his.

He ran his thumbs over her cheekbones, smiling at the effect he had on her. "I think I'd better go. Before we both aren't able to control ourselves."

Alison raised an eyebrow. "Who said anything about controlling ourselves?" But she backed away, her face sobering. "I understand, Carson. Last night was intense and emotional."

He nodded. "You deserve more than that."

She laughed at that, the sharpness of the sound surprising him. "I would have been perfectly happy if we'd. . . ." Her face warmed to a delightful shade of pink, and she cleared her throat. "It wouldn't have mattered to me, Carson."

"Aye, I know." He shook his head. "But it would have mattered to me."

They sat in silence for a bit, each one absorbing the impact of what this weekend would mean to their relationship. Carson watched the emotions cross her face as she smiled at him, and he grinned back. He knew where his heart was headed with this woman, and he loved every idea that crossed his mind. Nights spent curled up with one another, mornings waking to see her smile, moments of sharing the things that still caused such heartache, quiet times when neither spoke, and the unspoken communication that seemed to pass between them.

Seeing that she was well and truly okay, he looked around. "Well, I suppose I should get moving for the day."

Alison grinned again, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Might be a good idea. I went downstairs and brought back some fruit and toast for breakfast, but I'm not sure you'll want it now."

"Why? What time is it?"

Her grin blossomed into a full-blown laugh. "It's almost one in the afternoon."

"_What_?"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "You obviously needed the sleep, and I wasn't complaining."

Carson stood and stared at her, his shock fading as he studied the expression on her face. She truly didn't care, and it warmed him to know that she was thrilled for him to be there. He slowly remembered everything that was said the night before and now reached out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I meant every word I said last night, love."

"I know." She took his hand in hers and kissed his palm. "Go get dressed for the day. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

Leaving her alone, Carson slipped onto the cold balcony and hurried into his room. Today, the fear of the night before seemed foolish, and he shook his head. He hoped that the terror of what Michael had done to him would fade over time. Still, he was grateful to have a woman in his life who did her best to understand everything about him.

~TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Esperanza was quiet at two in the morning. Katie stood in the living room of the house, looking around with a frown. The man had to have something he was hiding. Everyone did. She just needed to find it. So far, she'd searched his bedroom, office, and bathroom. Aside from a bad habit of just stacking medical journals in a corner, Carson Beckett appeared to be the neatest, most organized, and most honest man she'd ever known. His computer was password protected, however, and she didn't know how to hack it. Otherwise, she might have found something worth using on that machine.

Strolling into the kitchen, Katie trailed her gloved hands along the counter. The moon was full, and she had no problem seeing where she was going. Opening and closing cabinets, she searched for a secret stash of alcohol that might indicate a problem. Nothing. In frustration, she yanked open the fridge and peered inside. He had a bottle of wine stored in there, but only a few glasses were missing from the amount. And, based on the vintage, it was something he used on special occasions.

Tired of searching and finding nothing, Katie idly flipped through the contents. She'd been careful to keep any evidence of her presence from appearing, but she doubted he'd have the memory to notice the contents of his fridge slightly out of place. Especially since he was off enjoying his time with Alison Porter.

Katie's mouth twisted in irritation at the thought of _her_ man off with the little girl. He needed to realize what Katie could offer him.

Her fixation with Carson bordered on unhealthy. Katie knew that and often dismissed the ideas that popped into her head. But the more Carson resisted her advances, the more she wanted him. She wasn't certain how long he'd amuse her, though, and considered giving up the fruitless search. But she was in a tight spot. Ever since Debbie Engleside overdosed on meth, Katie's extra income had stopped. She couldn't risk Engleside or his foreman finding out about how she'd dealt other drugs on the side. It was enough that she'd already broken into the pharmacy to continue feeding her oxycodone habit.

A random motion opened the butter compartment on the fridge door. Katie stopped and stared. Three silver devices lay side by side, vials of clear liquid in them and ready to be administered. Picking them up, she turned them over and over as she thought. Carson was diabetic, or so he said. But this wasn't insulin. She'd seen plenty of insulin bottles and syringes in her time and knew what those looked like. These devices looked like the science fiction versions of syringes that she saw on television. The clear liquid inside could be anything.

_So __this __is __his __secret!_ Katie grinned as she tucked all three of the devices into her pocket. She backed out of the house, careful to lock the door as she left. She wanted Carson to return home and find it exactly how he'd left it. With the exception of his drugs, of course. As she scurried to her tiny apartment, she fingered the silver syringes and frowned. Carson didn't show signs of being a drug user, so they could be some sort of life-saving medication. But he also didn't show signs of being a normal man. Any normal man would have taken her up on her multiple offers by now, and he was either too dense or too smitten with Alison to notice.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Katie pulled the silver vials from her pocket. They should be kept in the fridge, she knew. Putting all but one there, she mentally calculated the dosage. One, maybe two, per bottle. What was it? The vials weren't marked at all—something unusual in the medical realm—and she let out a deep breath. There was only one way to find out. And finding out could kill her.

"What choice do I have?" she asked the quiet room. Taking a deep breath, she put the syringe to her elbow and depressed the plunger.

oOo

Alison woke on their final day in the Swiss Alps with Carson's arm again draped over her waist. Last night, they'd stayed up late to watch movies in her room, and she'd drifted to sleep next to him. He'd not said as much, but she sensed he might not be too comfortable in his room after his horrific nightmare. She couldn't fully understand, but she could offer him a safe place to rest. Besides, the smile he gave her as she blinked at the sunrise shining in her window was worth every moment of it.

"Morning," she said as she tried to keep her eyes open.

He chuckled. "You have time. You can go back to sleep."

"I know." She rolled into him, snuggling into his side and loving how his arms wrapped around her. For a long time, she allowed herself to simply doze on his chest, his heartbeat creating a comforting rhythm beneath her ear. He seemed content to hold her, and she felt his body begin to relax back into sleep.

Then someone banged on the door. Startled, Alison sat upright, her hair falling onto her shoulders. In the bed, Carson let out a quick giggle before putting a warm hand on her shoulder. "I'll get it, love." His voice was warm as he pushed out of the bed and padded to the door on bare feet.

The simplicity of it, as well as the intimacy of their sleeping arrangements, was not lost on her. She'd always thought she'd find the man she spent the rest of her days with more attractive after they'd become intimately involved. Instead, she'd just spent the last two nights in the same bed with Carson and had managed to actually sleep. Nothing happened between them, and Alison could only anticipate the moment when it did happen.

Carson's soft conversation at the door ended, and he walked back across the floor to sit on the edge of the bed. "That was Sheppard."

She felt her face heat but grinned. "And what kind of look did you get when you answered _my_ door?"

His smile widened. "Love, I think you're better off not knowin' how the colonel's mind works."

Alison shoved his shoulder. "What did Sheppard want?"

"To tell us that gifts are about to be opened downstairs." He shrugged. "I saw him pound on Dusty's door as well, so we're not the only ones who are late."

Alison pushed back the comforter still covering her legs. "Let's not keep them waiting!" She reached for clothing and stopped when Carson's hand landed on her wrist.

He shrugged. "Sheppard was still in his night clothes as well. Let's enjoy the moment."

She straightened and, after a moment, nodded. Carson's eyes lit from within, and he grabbed her hand to lead her from her room. Alison laughed at the childlike action and couldn't help thinking that she needed more of this in her life. She'd caught up with him as they reached the stairs and laced her fingers through his. She honestly didn't care if the team saw them together.

Downstairs, Anne held a steaming cup of coffee as she curled her bare feet under her. The major glared at Ronon, who was fully dressed and eagerly sitting next to the Christmas tree. Teyla appeared as equally composed and handed Alison a cup of hot cocoa before pouring a cup of coffee for Carson. Sheppard bounded back over to the, his hair more unruly than normal and grinned. "C'mon, Teldy, liven up a bit."

Anne glared. "With all due respect, Sir, I was asleep five minutes ago."

Sheppard motioned toward her. "And I made sure there was coffee waiting."

"Yes, Sir, you did." She frowned. "But this is my last day on leave, and I was hoping to enjoy the extra sleep."

Sheppard waved a hand as Dusty and Chuck appeared on the steps, looking even more tousled than Carson and Alison. "You'll get over it," he said as he turned. Grinning at the newly-arrived couple, he asked, "Did you see Lorne and Cole?"

Dusty blinked owlishly at him, but Chuck grinned. "I think I heard them up and about," said the gate tech.

As he'd predicted, Lorne and Cole appeared a few moments later, completing the group. Anne managed to look a bit more awake as the coffee flowed, and Sheppard took up a spot next to the Christmas tree. Looking around, he grinned. "Okay, we're all here." His face sobered. "I know we're not much for speeches, and we all bought gifts for one another. But, as Ronon and I were shopping, we decided to do things a bit different." He reached under the tree and started pulling out similar sized boxes. "Since this is everyone's first trip to Switzerland, we decided to splurge and get something for everyone. Porter, you and Cole only get one gift as this is from me and Ronon."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "I feel left out!"

Laughter floated around the room as Sheppard handed out the boxes. When he nodded, Teyla tore into hers. Her gasp made everyone smile. "John!" She held up an elegant silver watch, it's diamond shaped face showing no numbers but housing an amethyst at the two o'clock and six o'clock position. A band of matching silver chains glittered in the early morning sun. "It is beautiful!"

Sheppard's grin widened as he helped Teyla pull it from the box and fix it around her wrist. Alison eyed the box in her hand, knowing that the price Sheppard had just spent on Teyla's gift alone was outrageous. Sheppard nodded to everyone to go ahead and open their gifts, and the sound of paper tearing filled the room.

Anne was the first to free her gift from the wrapping. "Sir." She shook her head. Her watch had the same distinctive diamond shape as Teyla's, but it looked completely different. Still silver, it had ten small diamonds that flowed down one side. The face was black.

Sheppard motioned. "I know you can't. . .uh. . .wear it on duty, Teldy, but. . . ." He shrugged sheepishly.

Anne stared at him. She looked about ready to protest but simply smiled. "Thank you, Sir."

Amanda's watch was a practical brown band with a satin rose gold case. She grinned, commenting that she could wear it in the infirmary. Dusty found one with a dusky blue band, a sapphire at the six o'clock position, and simple gold casing. And Alison, who had waited until last, stared at a simple silver watch with a diamond in the six o'clock position. Each and every one of them matched the woman to whom they'd been given, and Alison shook her head. She'd never thought to see Anne Teldy speechless or Dusty Mehra admiring a piece of jewelry like she currently was. That, alone, was priceless.

The men also received Swiss watches, though they were less varied and much more functional than the ladies'. Carson thanked Sheppard with a grin, whispering to Alison that he'd also be allowed to wear it in the infirmary. She gave his shoulder another shove with a warning to be quiet.

After that, the gift exchange passed quickly. Alison had managed to find a mint-condition record of the Beatles' "Yellow Submarine" album. Chuck loved it, of course, and Dusty mouthed the words "Thank you" to Alison. Ronon immediately examined and then grinned at the knife Dusty bought for him in the knife shop, and Lorne was thrilled with the expensive paintbrush set Carson found. Amanda bought Anne a nice leather belt with a large, decorative buckle that had cost almost as much as the record Alison had purchased. Sheppard laughed when Anne pulled out the snowboard that she'd found for him, and Teyla instantly opened the tub of gourmet popcorn Chuck got her. But the best gift of the day—minus the watches—was Lorne's gift for Dusty. The Marine opened a box ostensibly filled with packages of bubble gum. She found a Beyonce album in the middle, however, which resulted in shouts of laughter as she sputtered.

"How did you know?" Dusty asked when she could speak again.

Lorne raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I have my ways, Sergeant."

The group broke up to dress for the day, and Carson found Alison standing on their balcony about thirty minutes later. The bright sun was out, but she didn't notice much as she fiddled with the band of her watch. It glittered in the sunshine, and she idly cast its reflection on the railing as she thought.

"Penny for them," Carson said softly.

Alison grinned at his voice, learning to not startle whenever he was around. "Sorry. I was just thinking about something you said the other night."

His brow lowered. "What did I say?"

"You asked what I wanted." She turned and met his eyes. "You said that night wasn't for decisions, but you talked a lot about your decision to go to Esperanza and work there. When I asked if you'd be leaving Esperanza, you asked what I would want."

"I remember." He nodded. "I still want to know what you'd want."

She sighed deeply. "Honestly, I'm not sure." She crossed her arms. "I like being at home. I like the slower pace, the predictability of life there. Knowing that you're coming into the coffee shop at lunch time, knowing that I can run down the street to the clinic, Mom cooking, seeing everyone. I like having that. But. . . ."

He nodded again. "Aye, I know what you mean." He joined her at the railing, bracing his elbows on it as he looked out over the landscape. "There's a certain thrill to living and working in Atlantis. I miss it."

Alison smiled at that. "I do, too." She shook her head. "I never thought I would, but being home for the holidays has really brought that out in me. I miss being out there, going to other planets and not knowing what's waiting around the bend. But, I also miss home, too."

Carson turned to look at her, his eyes sober. "It's nice to have a place to go home to that's safe."

She agreed with a nod.

"So, what did ye decide?"

Alison shook her head. "I don't know." She faced him. "Being here, with you, really showed me some things I want in life. But I'm heading back to the SGC soon. Back to work there, and you're in Esperanza now. I can't have both."

He reached out and took her hands in his. "Ali-love, don't discount anything before it happens. Give us a chance to work this out."

"I'm trying," she said, hating the tears that gathered in her eyes. "Carson, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I don't want to lose that. But what will we have with me on Atlantis and you in Esperanza?"

He looked at their hands intertwined together. "The last time I remember havin' this conversation, I was the one stayin' behind on Atlantis as Cadman left."

"What did you decide then?"

"I didn't. She did." He heaved a sigh. "As much as I want to leave this decision to you, I cannae let that happen. I love you too much."

Alison stepped into his arms, then, laying her head on his chest. "When I came home, it wasn't to fall in love."

"I know." He held her for a long time, his hands rubbing up and down her shoulders in a comforting rhythm. Alison breathed in the smell of him, smiling at the crisp scent that she would always associate with Carson Beckett.

Finally, she looked up at him, tipping her head back. "I don't want to go home." It came out in a whine, but he understood.

"Neither do I, love."

They said nothing else for the next thirty minutes, just held one another and enjoyed the closeness. Neither of them offered solutions to their dilemma, and Alison was grateful for that. She knew they'd figure out their relationship and where it was headed, but she also knew he wouldn't rush her decisions. And, with Carson in her life, she had some big decisions to make. She just hoped that, when the time came, she made the right ones.

~TBC


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note:** To those who reviewed anonymously, so very glad you're enjoying the story! I had a blast writing it inside of a month, and I'm having even more fun re-reading and editing it for posting! It was a blur during November when I was writing it, so I feel almost like I'm reading it for the first time. Katie's actions in Ch 19 do have far-reaching effects on the entire cast of characters, so I hope you enjoy how all of this plays out! ~lg

oOo

Carson and Alison returned to Esperanza around noon on Monday. Rather than driving her directly to her mother's home, he took her to the coffee house. Both of them were anxious to see Margaret, and he wondered how the older woman would take the changes in his relationship with Alison. Probably with a thrilled expression and a teasing glint in her eyes. Margaret loved to get a rise out of people, though she was careful with those she called family.

As they walked through the door, Alison glanced up at Carson and gave him a smile before scampering across the way to hug her mother. He had to admit that she looked great. The vacation had added color to her cheeks, and the new clothes she wore were stylish, expensive, and absolutely distracting to any man who enjoyed seeing her curves as much as he did. Margaret hugged her daughter with a laugh and then turned to hug Carson, who joined the two women slowly.

"So," she asked with a teasing grin, "where did Carson take you?"

Knowing the insinuations were inevitable, he leaned against the counter and allowed Alison to answer. She dimpled at him. "The Swiss Alps. We went to a ski lodge owned by one of Carson's close friends."

"Very romantic!" Margaret gave Carson an approving smile.

Alison rolled her eyes at her mother and flushed. "It wasn't just us. There were other people there. It was a _team_ Christmas."

Margaret chuckled. "Honey, I've known you a long time, and I feel like I know Carson well enough to say that, even though there were other people there, it was still very romantic."

Carson pushed away from the counter. "Aye, Margaret, you're right," he said with a wink at Alison. Other than his nightmare, everything had been perfect. He'd been able to spend plenty of time with Colonel Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla. Alison had seen her team. The couples had enjoyed their time, and those not seeing anyone had found things to keep them occupied. Even now, Carson dreaded returning to his home knowing that Alison was across town. It was an odd feeling, especially since nothing firm had been decided between them. But having her so close for the last two nights had highlighted how he truly felt about her.

Margaret caught sight of his wrapped wrist right then. "Carson, what happened?"

He held it up with a rueful grin. "Skiing accident."

Margaret blinked. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, aye." He chuckled. "What is it that everyone says in this instance? You should see the other guy."

Alison touched her mother's arm when Margaret's eyes grew round. "Ronon's fine, Mom." She gave Carson a censoring glance, trying to scold him without saying anything for frightening her mother. "He's got a fractured clavicle, but he'll be just fine."

For his part, Carson found the "scolding" to be utterly adorable. "Aye, he will be." He smiled at Margaret. "I had a wee bit of a concussion an' a sprained wrist. Nothin' to worry about."

The conversation went on, with Alison showing her mother the expensive watch and sharing various incidents of the weekend. Carson listened indulgently, knowing that women had to get these kinds of details out. He'd never been one to really talk about things, not since coming out of that stasis pod. His time with Michael had changed him, made him a little colder and a touch bitter. Being around Alison brought out a side of him he hadn't seen since. . .well, ever. He shared another smile with her as Mrs. Engleside came into the coffee house, though his mind was elsewhere. Sometime during the weekend, he'd stopped thinking of himself as separate from the original Carson Beckett. Being with his friends had done wonders for many of the questions in his mind.

Then, he frowned, snapped back into the present by Mrs. Engleside's manner. It was a dreary day in Esperanza, a high layer of clouds blocking the sun and giving everything a gray cast. But she wore large sunglasses as if it was the brightest day in the middle of summer. And she was limping. Carson watched her momentarily before deciding to speak with her.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Engleside."

"Doc." She smiled at him, but it was strained. "I heard you were out of town for the weekend."

"Aye," he said with a nod. "We had a team Christmas with some close friends of mine."

"Sounds wonderful!" Her voice was wistful. "Where did you go?"

A quick glance at Alison had her shrugging at him. He turned back to Mrs. Engleside. "We went to the Swiss Alps. Went skiing and snowboarding."

Mrs. Engleside's smile widened. "I haven't gone skiing in years. Not since. . . ." Her voice trailed off.

Something warned Carson against asking about her own well-being, so he picked a different tact. "How's Debbie holdin' up?"

"Good." Mrs. Engleside shrugged. "Doug won't hardly allow her to leave the house, though, and I'm concerned it might create some problems. But she's showing no signs of any kind of relapse."

"Good." Carson waited while Margaret handed the woman her order. "Have a wonderful day, Mrs. Engleside. And give me a call if you need anything."

The woman waved at him and slipped out the door. Carson frowned at the uncharacteristic behavior, and his mind could only make one leap. After having been choked by Doug Engleside, not to mention having his lip split by the man's powerful fist, he could somewhat believe the man was abusing his wife. Carson didn't like what it said about one of the town's most powerful men, and he wondered what else Engleside was involved with.

Margaret interrupted his thoughts. "You two have got to be exhausted." She gave Carson a pointed glance. "Why don't you take Alison to the house and let me tend the shop today?"

Carson pulled his keys from his pocket. "Sounds like a great idea." He hugged Margaret. "Thank you."

Margaret rolled her eyes. "Get out of here."

With another round of grins and "Welcome homes," Carson tucked Alison back into his truck and drove her home. After his time in the United States, he'd adjusted to driving on what he felt was the wrong side of the road. It was odd, but he remembered rather than drifting into oncoming traffic.

At Margaret's house, Carson carried Alison's luggage inside while she slipped out of her heavy jacket. Then, he took her in his arms and kissed her soundly. She sighed as she leaned into him, content to let him lead the way in their time together. Wanting nothing more than to take her up on her invitation but knowing this wasn't the time, Carson pulled back and leaned his forehead against her's.

She smiled. "That's nice."

"Aye," he agreed softly.

"I almost don't want this weekend to end." She looked into his eyes, perfectly serious in spite of the smile on her face. "That chateau was incredible."

"It was." Carson held her close for a few more moments. "Ali-love, I meant every word I said back there. An' I'm willin' to let you make those decisions."

"I know, Carson." She nodded. "I promise we'll make them before I leave."

Not really wanting to think about the end of her vacation just after Christmas, Carson kissed her one more time and then slipped out of the house. Alison waved from the door, and he drove away thinking about some of his realizations over the weekend. He wanted her in his life forever, not just for a few weeks.

Rather than driving home, Carson wound up at the clinic. He'd allowed himself to focus on his thoughts about Alison rather than where he was driving, and his subconscious guided him to the clinic. Thinking it rather fitting since he did need to get another Ace bandage for his wrist, he was surprised to find Katie sitting behind the receptionist's desk. She wore her typical clothing, but her hair was a bit wilder than before. She bounced her knee, her platform heel tapping out an irritating staccato on the tile floor.

Carson frowned. "Katie? Wha' are you doin' here? I thought I gave you an' Jorge the weekend off."

She turned in the chair. "Oh, Carson!" Her hand went to her chest. "Youstartledme!"

He blinked at the way she'd run her words together. "I'm sorry, lass. I stopped in to get some supplies and wasnae expectin' anyone here." As he spoke, he studied her. _Pupils __dilated, __hyperactivity, __runny __nose_. He didn't like the symptoms he was seeing. "What are you doing here?" he asked again.

"Oh, just some work." She shrugged. "Doug wants to bring Debbieintoseeyou, and I think Mrs. Blanchard issickagain."

Carson held up a hand. "Katie. Lass, slow down." He didn't like what he was seeing. "What happened while I was gone?"

"Nothing." She shrugged and stood up to rush over to the filing cabinet. Her hands were shaking, causing the pages in her hand to rattle. "Nothing happened, Carson. I had a perfectlyquietevening, and I don't know when the last time that happened was. Now, I figured I'd come in and getcaughtuponwork!"

Carson moved to her side. "You're sure?"

"Yes!" She suddenly turned defensive. "You don't believe me?"

"Well, I didn't say that." He shook his head. Katie was acting a bit out of character, and Carson worried about what had happened while he'd been gone. She reminded him of the way Rodney had acted when the physicist was hopped up on Wraith enzyme.

"I'm fine, Carson!" The anger in her tone surprised him. "Why would you care how I am?"

He blinked again, this time at the change in her tone. "I care, Katie, because you're my friend."

"Oh, please!" She laughed. "You're no more my friend than you are my _lover_! You ran off with Alison Porter at the first opportunity you got. Don't talk to me about friendship. And leave me alone!" With that, she gathered her things in frenetic, disconnected movements and stomped out the back door.

Carson stared at the spot where she'd stood just a moment ago. It was true that he'd never cared for Katie in a romantic sense, but he'd always tried to be friendly with her. The venom in her voice was something he'd only heard when she and Alison got into their little tiff in the office. Something must have happened while he was gone.

Making a mental note to check in with Jorge the next day, Carson drove home. He was tired and ready to settle back into life. Like Alison, he didn't want their weekend to end, but he would have been just as happy to have her in his home as he was to be in the beautiful Swiss Alps. That realization made him smile as he parked his truck and walked to the front door. It also highlighted just how serious he was about Alison Porter. She wasn't someone who could walk into and out of his life without leaving a mark. She had changed him.

Inside, Carson took his luggage to the laundry room and started washing his vacation clothes right away. He set the tea kettle on the stove to warm some tea and draped the Athosian blanket Teyla had given him for Christmas over the back of the couch. After making a quick snack, he started a fire and stared into the flames as he wondered what to do now. The evening stretched before him, and he realized that he didn't like being alone. Not anymore.

Tired of thinking about things he couldn't change right then, Carson went to take a long shower and retired early.

oOo

Tuesday morning dawned just as gray and overcast as the day before. Perhaps more so, as the clouds had settled over the town. Carson ironically hoped for rain and then shook his head. In Scotland, he'd never been one to hope for rain though he enjoyed the wildness of the weather. But here, in Esperanza, he learned the value of water falling from the sky. It generally left everything feeling clean, bright, and wintery. Thankful it wasn't snow, he crawled from bed and climbed into the shower.

His head ached. As he dried, he noticed his hand shaking and couldn't stop the mirthless chuckle. He'd managed to time his injections just right so that he didn't need to travel with his serum. But the seventh day was always tough. He woke with the headache, clamminess, and general sense of illness that would kill him if he didn't take the serum. Last night, when he'd arrived home, he hadn't thought to take a dose and head this off at the pass, but it would only take an hour or so for the serum to do its work.

Dressed for the day and determined to make it to work on time, Carson started a pot of coffee. He'd become accustomed to that caffeine infusion during their trip to the Alps, and he opened his fridge to pull out this week's dose of the serum. He had learned to warm the serum before injecting it by setting it in water. It burned less that way, though he was certain he'd always feel somewhat uncomfortable taking an injection just to stay alive. It was no different from a diabetic's need for insulin.

Reaching into the butter compartment of his fridge without looking, his hand encountered an empty shelf. Carson blinked and looked to make certain the vials hadn't rolled out of the compartment last night. There were no silver vials in the fridge. "Oh, crap!" Still feeling unwell, the nausea that crept up at the sight of his vials missing was enough to have him swallowing convulsively. He'd left three vials, enough for the remainder of the month. Where had they all gone?

The shaking in his hands increased as he reached for his cell phone. The first number he called was Alison's, and he regretted waking her. She was up in an instant when she heard his voice, however, saying she'd be over as soon as she could get out the door. The thought of his medication missing concerned her greatly, and he hated the sound of concern that came over the line. The next person he called was Sheppard.

The colonel answered distractedly, almost as if he'd been in a meeting. "Carson, can I call you back?"

"I'm sorry, Colonel, I wish I could say yes." Carson dropped onto his couch and leaned his head back against the wall. "My serum's been stolen, an' I need a dose today!"

~TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Alison arrived before Sheppard managed to get in touch with Carson again. She came through the door he'd unlocked and found him sitting in his easy chair, head leaned back as he tried to ignore the panic rising in his stomach. "Carson!"

He opened his eyes and sat up, the clammy feeling having subsided as he'd adjusted to the condition of his body. "I'm sorry, love," he said softly.

She smoothed his hair from his face, letting her fingers linger in it. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, I feel like a dog's breakfast, but I'll be fine." He pasted a smile on his face. "Colonel Sheppard is on his way with more serum, an' then we'll figure out what happened."

"Carson. . . ." She let out a deep breath, clearly frustrated with herself. "What do you need?"

He truly smiled at that and took her hand. Scooting to one side of the large chair, he pulled her into his arms. "The last time I felt like this, I wound up in a stasis pod. I found out I wasn't who I thought myself to be, that I was dying, and that the people I trusted had no idea what to do to help me. It's different, now, but. . . ."

"It brings up the memories," Alison finished what he'd been saying.

"Aye." Carson smiled as she wiggled her way into a more comfortable position next to him. "I guess I panicked a bit on some level when I couldn't find the serum."

She wrapped her arms around his middle. "It's going to be okay," she said firmly, sounding a bit like Dusty.

"I know," he said as he hugged her close. He'd never seen himself as needing another person around, but just having her there meant everything would be okay. His body might be failing him, unable to renew the cells he needed to survive, but he had what he needed to stay calm. It was as if his entire world was made better by Alison's presence.

Neither one of them spoke for a long time. Carson sensed the tension in Alison and rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to soothe it. But he knew that she wouldn't relax until Sheppard had arrived with his serum. Only then would she feel free to either fall apart or get on with the investigation.

_The __investigation!_ "Oh, God!" He couldn't keep the alarm from his voice.

Alison's head popped up. "What is it, Carson? What do you need?"

"Nothing." He smiled at her. "I just thought about what this is going to do."

She frowned. "It means someone stole your serum, and Sheppard's going to want to know. . . .Oh."

"Aye." He shook his head. "I'm going to need to figure out who took it, what effects it would cause, an' try to do it without alerting Jorge." Thinking about the DEA agent masquerading in his clinic, Carson ran a hand over his face. "That might not be possible."

Alison sat up on the edge of the chair, her movements slightly awkward given their nearness. "What do you need for now?"

He also sat up. "My computer. The quicker I figure out what this serum might do to a normal human, the better. It's based on Wraith medicine, so it'll likely have a similar effect as the Wraith enzyme has on. . . ." His face crumpled as he thought about his return to Esperanza.

Alison frowned. "You have an idea, don't you?"

"Aye." He hurried into his office, his mind already working through the possible complications. He thought about Katie, about her reaction to him and how hyperactive she'd been. Opening his secure laptop, he signed in through several layers of security before pulling up Dr. Keller's research on the serum that kept his cells stable. Alison appeared in his office door, carrying two cups of coffee that he'd forgotten he even brewed. She set his next to his hand as she sipped from her own cup. He gave her a grateful smile and allowed the coffee to warm him from the inside.

For the next hour, the two of them hovered over the computer. Carson took the time to thoroughly study all the results Jennifer had figured out. His cells were dying, not renewing fast enough to sustain tissue function. But, in a healthy human being, the serum that helped his body renew those cells would, conceivably, create bigger problems. Cells that normally died off in a healthy human being wouldn't die off. The person's immune system wouldn't see them as a threat, though the body's natural functions would be kicked into overdrive. Everything, from metabolism to libido, would speed up to the point that it could overload the heart. Or worse. Carson sat back in his chair. "Dear Lord!"

"Carson?" Alison frowned and then stopped when a knock sounded on the door. She went to answer it, returning with Sheppard and his entire team.

Sheppard held up the precious silver vial. "Sorry to take so long, Doc. We didn't want to just drop in."

Carson accepted the vial and rolled up his sleeve to inject it. The burning sensation that typically accompanied the vial settled quickly, and he let out a deep breath. "Thank you, Colonel, and just droppin' in wouldnae ha'e been a problem." Then, he frowned. "Rodney? Wha' are you doin' here?"

McKay, who wore civilian clothing along with the rest of the group, frowned. "I can't come help my best friend?"

"No, it's just that. . . .Never mind." Carson shook his head. "If I'm right about what the effects may be on a normal human body, we may have bigger problems than just someone stealin' my serum, Colonel."

The reactions to that were varied. Sheppard frowned. "Why do you say that, Doc?"

"Because there's a DEA agent workin' in my clinic." Carson met Sheppard's eyes, hating the way the team's expressions hardened. "An' whoever stole my serum may have already taken it or sold it on the street."

oOo

Getting a call from Doc Beckett wasn't unusual for Jorge. Being invited to the doc's house was. Jorge hung up his cell phone and looked around the empty clinic. He'd arrived for work that day and was surprised to find that Katie and Beckett weren't already there. The weekend break had been wonderful, allowing him to head home and see his family for a change. But, now, senses honed by too many years undercover told him something was wrong.

Grabbing his jacket, Jorge left the clinic and headed for the doctor's home. He liked Beckett well enough and recognized the tension in his voice. Something had happened, and it wasn't good. At Beckett's place, Jorge parked on the street and hurried to the door. He wasn't worried about being seen here, especially since the man was his boss. What he was worried about, however, was the large group of people he'd seen through the front window.

Alison Porter answered the door with a tense smile on her face. She let him in with a quiet word to the others, and Beckett appeared in the doorway. Jorge frowned. "Doc? What's goin' on?"

Beckett put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him to the side. "Jorge, we have a situation that involves your investigation, an' we may need to step up whatever your plans are for acting."

Jorge glanced at the people behind Beckett. Every single one of them were trying to look as if they weren't listening, and three of them succeeded. The balding man with downturned lips failed miserably. "What happened?"

"You know I take injections on a regular basis?"

"Yeah, insulin to cope with your diabetes."

"Not insulin. It's a rare genetic disorder that prevents the cells in my body from renewin' fast enough to sustain tissue function. I take a weekly injection to treat it and stabilize my system." Beckett met his eyes. "My medication's been stolen, an' I think it may be on the street somewhere."

Jorge blinked at the revelation and then closed his eyes. He didn't need to consult with his handler to know what this meant. "These people?" he asked, nodding to the group gathered. "They're part of whatever you did in the past that has your work so classified?"

"Aye."

Making an instantaneous decision based on how his superiors had acted when he'd asked to get Beckett involved, Jorge let out a deep breath. Stepping around Carson, he headed for the messy-haired man who appeared to be the leader. "I'm Agent Jorge Dominguez, Drug Enforcement Agency."

The messy-haired man blinked and then shook his hand. "Colonel John Sheppard, Air Force. Behind me is Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagan, and Rodney McKay." He nodded to each person in turn. "Carson's told you what's happening?"

"Yeah." Jorge ran a hand over his face. "How can I help?"

oOo

Something was wrong. Katie stopped mid-stride and frowned. Where was she going? She should know where she was headed. The confusion disappeared as quickly as it had shown up, and she continued on her way. She was going to the clinic to see Carson and apologize for her behavior the day before.

Now that she thought about it, Katie wondered exactly what had caused her to be so snippy. She'd felt great ever since taking the drugs she found in his home. No wonder the man was perpetually happy. He had chemical help. The blackmail she'd found on him thrilled her, but she found herself loving the effects of the single vial she'd used so far.

Last night had been incredible! Katie smirked as she let herself into the empty clinic. She'd met up with Doug Engleside and had spent most of the night letting him fulfill her desires. She never seemed to be satiated, and he thought himself just that great of a lover. In truth, Katie enjoyed the encounter more because she spent half of it in a drug-induced haze. Not that Doug knew that. He just thought she'd gone so long without that she was desperate to fulfill her body's basic needs. Once he'd left, she'd gone to the kitchen and ate everything in sight. Her metabolism had increased, as well as her energy levels, and she hadn't slept a wink since taking the drugs.

Finding no one in the clinic, Katie shrugged and headed back home. She had enough stuff to keep herself busy for the remainder of the day. In addition to working at the clinic, she had decided to clean out her small apartment. It was only a matter of time before she saw Carson again and used the vials she'd taken from him as a tool to get what she wanted. If she had her way, she wouldn't live in this rinky-dink apartment for much longer. She'd be happily ensconced in Carson's home, grinning every time she saw Alison Porter.

Dropping into a chair, surprisingly exhausted and with her right side tingling, Katie grinned. Victory would be so sweet!

oOo

Katie wasn't at the clinic. Carson stood in the waiting area, looking around and trying to figure out where the receptionist would have gone. She was obsessive about her work schedule, primarily because she worked to seduce him every chance she got. Pushing aside his distaste for Katie's methods, he walked carefully through the clinic. Jorge followed him, as did Sheppard. The rest of the team and Alison waited in the front portion of the clinic. When he found it empty, Carson turned to the two men with him.

Sheppard frowned. "Where would Katie go?"

"I don't know." Carson shook his head. "I don't know the woman well, other than her insistence on tryin' to seduce me."

Sheppard smirked. "Never thought I'd hear that tone of voice from you, Doc." He chuckled at Carson's pointed look but turned to Jorge. "Do you know where she'd go?"

"No." Jorge shook his head. "I know where she lives and works. Quite frankly, until now, she was never a viable suspect. There were enough inconsistencies to make me look elsewhere."

Carson put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, we need to find her now. Yesterday when I was here, she was hyperactive, pupils dilated, an' slurrin' her words."

Jorge nodded. "Classic signs of amphetamine use."

"Aye." Carson met Sheppard's eyes. "An' the serum may cause bigger issues. If her body isnae able to break it down, it could kill her."

Sheppard sighed. "That's not good. We need her to answer some questions."

"Aye," Carson said again.

"Alright." Sheppard looked around. "What could we be walking into?"

"Well, I don't know." Carson moved to his office and collected his medical kit. "We could find her in any situation. Yesterday, she was hyperactive and defensive. Today, she could be violent or unconscious. I just don't know what the serum will do."

"We'll figure this out, Doc," Sheppard said as he headed for the front of the clinic. Once there, he looked at everyone. "Okay, we're heading to Ms. Summers's place."

For once, even McKay didn't argue. He simply rode along in the car while Carson and Jorge led the way in Carson's truck. The doctor drove carefully, trying to get to Katie's home in one piece but also with his head in the game. The concern he felt for Katie grew with every passing moment, and he ran through worst-case scenarios in his mind. If she did break into his home and steal his serum, it meant that she was likely stealing from the pharmacy as well. She'd deceived him all along, and that stung. But, if she'd simply purchased the serum rather than stealing it from him. . . . He snorted at his own naïve thinking. With all he'd seen in Pegasus, he knew better than to think that Katie was an innocent bystander, not with the way she'd been acting.

At her home, Carson grabbed his medical kit and ran to the door. Sheppard had brought one of Atlantis's medical scanners, and he'd managed to tuck it into the kit without Jorge seeing it. If it were necessary, he'd tell the DEA agent it was new tech that the Air Force was doing trial tests on, and he got the chance to put it to good use. It was as good a cover story as any given how thin the current one was.

Katie didn't answer their knocks. Jorge immediately began to pick the lock, jumping out of the way when Ronon spoke. "Stand back." The Satedan lifted one enormous foot and almost casually kicked the door open. Then, he walked into the apartment as if he'd been an invited guest: an _armed_ guest.

Carson followed him inside, frowning at the huge pile of stuff next to the door. "Katie?"

No answer. He took a few more steps, smelling bleach and other chemicals. The place was immaculate except for the pile next to the door. The carpets were old, and the walls a sickly shade of fifties-green, but the apartment showed signs of a more modern occupant.

"Doc!" Jorge's startled shout brought his head around. He blinked at what he saw. Katie sat on a worn-out couch, her head lolled back against the wall. Jorge had his fingers on her neck, shaking his head. "Pulse weak and thready, respiration shallow."

Carson reached into his pack and pulled out the scanner. "No outward signs of trauma?"

"None." Jorge rolled her arm over and frowned. "Save one."

Carson blinked at the angry red injection site on Katie's arm. He'd never had that reaction to the serum before, but he couldn't know what it would do to a human body that didn't need it. A quick scan with the "experimental scanner" showed something he didn't want to see.

Sheppard stepped to his side. "What is it, Doc?"

"She took a very big dose of the serum." He shook his head. "Almost two week's worth, Colonel. I'm seein' signs of seizures, an' she's suffered an intracerebral hemorrhage." At the colonel's blank look, Carson sighed. "Stroke, Colonel. She's had a hemorrhagic stroke. At this point, I don't know if I can save her."

~TBC


	22. Chapter 22

The team managed to get Katie back to the clinic in short order, and Alison stepped back as she watched Carson and Jorge go to work on saving the woman's life. Carson had set up an area for triage, and he now put it to good use as he started an IV, scanned Katie's body, and determined exactly what to do. He worked well with Jorge, and the DEA agent clearly knew his stuff when it came to medicine. The shorthand between the two men was impressive, and she refused to leave the room when Sheppard and the rest of the team stepped out. Instead, she took up a stool in a corner and stayed out of the way.

The day had been a long one, and it had barely reached noon. A glance at her watch told her why she was so hungry, and she vaguely thought about going to the coffee house to get lunch for everyone. Something stopped her, however. Katie had always played games, and she didn't want to leave Carson alone with the woman. It was irrational and jealous on her part, but she couldn't stop the reaction.

The machines Carson had managed to set up in the room started beeping erratically, and he whirled. "She's goin' into cardiac arrest!" He climbed up on the hospital bed and began chest compressions. "Jorge, there's a crash cart. . . ."

"I got it, Doc!" Jorge interrupted as he raced for the door. "Just keep her alive!"

Alison bit her fingernail as the moments went on. Carson counted the compressions, interspersing them with soft encouragement for Katie to hang on. Ironically, Alison found herself urging Katie along as well, silently begging the woman to survive. Carson had lost patients before, but he didn't need to lose Katie. Not right now, not with all the questions that he needed answered. Jorge returned just a few seconds later, though it felt as if he'd been gone for hours. Alison watched the pair work over Katie's body, both of them incredibly focused, as she realized that her training and experiences hadn't prepared her for this work.

"Clear." Carson's voice pulled her mind back to the present as Jorge held up his hands. A moment later, Katie's body jerked. She gave no other response, and Carson charged the defibrillator again. He shocked Katie again. The second shock seemed to work as the machines showed Katie's heart beginning to beat again. Carson sighed deeply. "Administer epinephrine," he told Jorge. Turning to Alison, he met her eyes. "Get an ambulance on the way over here. There's no way I can keep her alive with what I've got available here."

Alison realized what he was telling her and pulled out her phone as she left the room. A quick call to the sheriff's office resulted in an ambulance being dispatched, but it was at least an hour out at top speeds. Wishing Esperanza wasn't so isolated, Alison slipped back into the treatment room as Jorge pushed the crash cart out the door.

Carson sat next to Katie's bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Alison moved to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he said softly.

"Why?" She crouched in front of him, meeting his eyes. "What was it you told me when I had the migraine? Stop apologizing?"

He gave her a look that clearly said he wasn't happy with having his words thrown back at him. But his eyes were soft as he looked at her. "I know ye don't like Katie, but I cannae let her die."

"I would expect no less." Alison smiled. "Carson, I may not like the woman, but I don't wish her dead. You're a doctor—a good one. If anyone can save Katie, it'll be you."

He didn't deny that but simply nodded. Alison gave him the space he needed to react to the current crisis. Walking back to the waiting area, she found everyone save Colonel Sheppard had left. Blinking, she pointed at the door. "They've gone for lunch?"

"Yeah." Sheppard pushed to his feet. "Rodney said the coffee house has really good food, and Ronon decided he was hungry."

Alison snickered at the thought of Ronon in her mother's coffee house. "That could be fun to watch."

"Yeah, it could," Sheppard agreed with a smile. He glanced up to see Carson joining them. Alison wrapped her arms around her waist.

Carson touched her elbow. "Well, she's stabilized for now. Jorge's stayin' with her, an' I thought we could get somethin' to eat. I didn't have breakfast, an' it'll be a long day if the ambulance doesn't get here soon."

Sheppard frowned. "Doc, back on base, you wouldn't leave the infirmary with a patient in that condition."

"Aye, I know." Carson sighed. "Quite frankly, short of bringin' her back again, there's really nothing I can do for Katie. Unless she regains consciousness, we can't find out who she sold the serum to. An' she may not even be herself when she wakes up. The stroke was a bad one, and it'll change who she is forever."

"What if she goes into cardiac arrest again?" Alison asked.

"It's a possibility." Carson shrugged and then looked down. "I need some space," he admitted a moment later. "Katie has always been vivacious, lively. A handful, aye, but one I never wanted to see in this position. It's not like watchin' you or Rodney or anyone I know go through this. She. . . ." He blinked as he tried to explain.

Sheppard nodded. "I understand, Doc." He pointed over his shoulder. "I'm told the coffee house isn't too far from here. That's where the rest of the team is, and we're close. Just in case."

"Aye." Carson waited while the colonel left the room to pull Alison into his arms. She laid her head on his chest, feeling the tension in his body as he held her. No words were needed at this point, and she didn't see Sheppard glance back to give them an amused grin.

A few moments later, Carson pulled back to look wearily in her eyes. "Thank you for bein' there, love."

"No other place to be," Alison said with a shrug. "You're sure you want to leave Katie?"

"Aye," he said softly. "Jorge's got her care covered."

Surprised at the change in him, Alison allowed him to escort her to her mother's coffee house. She smiled at the sight of Ronon sitting at one of the bistro tables, but the team's faces were concerned for Carson. They absorbed him as she slipped behind the counter to explain what had happened to her mother. Margaret was concerned for Carson, clearly having seen the weariness in his eyes. The older woman happily served lunch in as quick of a manner as possible, aware that Carson might be called back to the clinic at any time.

The call never came. Carson glanced at his watch every few minutes and pushed away from the table as soon as he'd finished off his meal. He'd been there less than fifteen minutes, and Alison also stood. She'd fixed their coffee "to go" and knew they would likely spend the rest of the day in the clinic. The team accepted Carson's departure, with Sheppard accompanying them back down the street.

oOo

The clinic was quiet. Carson stopped just inside the door, trying to figure out why that bothered him. On any given day, the clinic was quiet, but the quiet was punctuated by Jorge's shoes squeaking, Katie typing, or the phone ringing. Now, none of that sounded in the air, but something else was wrong. The monitors around Katie's bed were no longer beeping, either. He set his coffee on the receptionist's desk and ran into the room.

The bed was empty. Jorge had crumbled onto the floor, bleeding from a head wound. Carson rushed to his side and carefully examined his wound. Turning to Alison, he calmly explained what he needed while Sheppard pulled out a radio and contacted the rest of the team. With reinforcements on the way, Carson focused on getting Jorge conscious and talking.

The ambulance arrived just after the rest of the team appeared. The paramedics raced through the door and found Carson crouched over Jorge, doing a quick examination of the DEA agent. He glanced up and nearly groaned aloud. "She's not here, gentlemen."

The paramedic blinked. "Then where is she?"

"I don't know." Carson left Jorge for a moment, satisfied the man had only a minor cut and concussion from being struck. "I left for ten minutes to get something to eat. When I returned, my nurse was unconscious, and the patient had disappeared."

Sheppard had followed the paramedics into the room. "We're gonna find her," he said firmly.

"Aye, an' ye need to hurry." Carson looked at the paramedics. "She's overdosed on a serum designed for a rare genetic disorder, an' it's caused her to suffer a hemorrhagic stroke, complicated by cardiac arrest. I called ye because I couldnae keep her alive on my own. If she's not found. . . ."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Jorge let out a groan as he regained consciousness, and then he dove for a pan that had been overturned in the fight. As he emptied his stomach contents, Carson found sent Alison for a bottle of water and patted the agent's shoulder. "Take it easy, lad. You've got quite the concussion."

"I know, Doc." Jorge accepted the water bottle from Alison. "Thanks."

The two paramedics looked uncertain of what to do. "Doc, you called for an ambulance. What do you want us to do?"

"Stick around." Carson glanced at them. "As soon as we figure out where Katie was taken, I'll need ye to transport her to the nearest hospital." He turned back to Jorge. "What happened?"

"Engleside." Jorge swallowed more water. "Engleside showed up just after you left. He was mad. I tried to calm him down, but. . . ." He chuckled. "First time I've ever been taken down by a guy smaller than me."

"Aye, you have to watch out for the little ones," Carson said wryly. "Why did he come here?"

"He kept sayin' Katie had ruined everything." Jorge shook his head. "I don't know how he got the drop on me. Must have had someone with him. One minute, I'm standing between the bed and Engleside, the next I saw your face."

"I knew I shouldn't have left," Carson said softly. "Okay, we need to figure out why Engleside would take Katie. And where."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Give me a few minutes." He headed for the receptionist's desk while Alison followed him. Carson was pleased to see Alison getting involved. Medical situations weren't her strength, but she could reason out data on a screen as well as Rodney McKay. That the physicist looked slightly put out at Alison's presence, but Carson wasn't worried. Those two would figure it out.

Helping Jorge to his feet, he turned his care over to the paramedics. Moving to Sheppard's side, he let out a deep breath. "Colonel, Engleside could be a problem."

Sheppard frowned. "Why?"

"His daughter's the one I treated for a methamphetamine overdose." Carson shook his head. "Right after that, he found pills from my pharmacy in his daughter's room. If we don't get ahead of this. . . ."

"People are gonna end up dead," Sheppard said.

"Aye." Carson hated agreeing, but he had nothing left to say.

oOo

It took Rodney less than an hour to work out why Doug Engleside might have taken Katie. Alison watched over his shoulder, not adding anything beyond local information. Doug Engleside owned the most successful ranch in Esperanza, and his income helped keep local businesses like the hardware store, Esperanza Cafe, and the clinic afloat. However, about three years ago, Engleside started hemorrhaging cash on high gambling debts. Then, his income seemingly stabilized. He still went to the casinos on a weekly basis, still lost big, and still had enough money to maintain his lifestyle.

Jorge joined the group after a few moments alone. His head clearly ached, but he refused to do much more than sit down in the chair Alison shoved toward him. He explained more of his investigation into Esperanza. A large amount of heroin and marijuana had moved through the town in the last three years, and the DEA figured there was a distribution center in the region for one of the major cartels. They'd not been able to get a lead on anything, so they sent in one of their agents who also happened to be a nurse practitioner.

In the three years that he'd been in Esperanza, Jorge had not discovered anything more than the drug dealing taking place in the cafe and pharmacy. He honestly admitted to suspecting Katie but dismissing her because she worked for Carson. As well as the fact that Carson had taken such firm control over the pharmacy and its operations. That didn't matter to Sheppard, who only wanted to get Katie back alive.

Pointing to the two paramedics, Sheppard motioned. "You two, follow us out to the ranch. Engleside's got a good hour-and-a-half on us, so he could have done anything by now."

The two men headed for the ambulance while Carson followed them. Alison watched him go and then turned to Sheppard. The colonel pointed to Rodney and Alison. "You two stay here. I want to know everything on Engleside, his workers, and anyone else who might be involved." He glanced at Jorge. "You stay put, as well."

With that, the clinic emptied.

Rodney immediately went back to work, leaving Alison to watch over his shoulder. She'd never felt so useless, but she had nothing to give. Jorge and McKay started talking softly, and Alison allowed them to work without interrupting. Her stomach churned, however, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. Carson was going into danger, and she wasn't there with him. Given that he'd looked so weak just that morning, she couldn't help worrying about him. But it was his nature to do anything to save a life, and she refused to ask him to stop. She couldn't.

As she sat there, she truly considered her plans for the future. If she left the SGC and came back to Esperanza, this would be her life. She wasn't cut out to sit at home and wait. She needed to be out in the field, doing something. With the news that Jorge was a nurse practitioner, it meant Carson could return to the SGC if he so chose to return. While she wanted to urge him toward that with all of her heart, she knew she couldn't force his hand. To do so would create unnecessary tension, and she hated the thought of forcing him to do something he didn't want to do. While he'd left their future in her hands, she couldn't make that decision without him.

Determined to be patient, she pushed to her feet and slipped into Carson's office. Once there, she sat behind his desk, surrounded by his things, and simply waited.

oOo

Engleside's ranch came into view, and Carson shook his head. It wasn't extravagant, but it was huge. The ambulance rolled to a stop, and Carson climbed out with Sheppard jumping from the truck behind them. Ronon and Teyla followed, along with the two paramedics. Carson stopped them all. "Wait!" He frowned. "Mrs. Engleside is easily spooked, so maybe it should just be me that goes to the door."

Sheppard agreed with a nod, and Carson walked onto the large porch and rang the doorbell. Mrs. Engleside answered without her sunglasses, and her two black eyes stood out against her skin. Carson frowned. "Mrs. Engleside, what happened?"

She stared up at him with tears in her eyes. "You're here for Doug, aren't you?"

Carson saw Debbie appear behind her mother, the girl's face a picture of anger. "Aye, we are. Do you know where he is?"

Mrs. Engleside shook her head, but Debbie pushed forward. "He's with some girl named Katie. Same place he was last night, and the same place he's been before. When he should be home!" The venom in the teenager's voice surprised Carson.

He nodded. "I'm sorry, but Katie was in the clinic barely alive. We're actually lookin' for her as well."

Debbie blinked at him. "You think Dad had something to do with it?" Her tone said she firmly believed that Engleside had done something wrong.

Mrs. Engleside whirled. "How dare you accuse your father?"

"Oh, please. Mom! Grow up! Dear Old Dad isn't who you think he is!" Debbie turned to Carson. "There are several warehouses toward the rear of our property. I can take you there."

"Debbie!" Mrs. Engleside screeched at her daughter.

Debbie pinned her mother in place with a cold glance. "If you hadn't been so concerned with how your life appeared, I wouldn't have been held prisoner in my own home. I'm sorry, Mom, but I'm not letting Dad get away with anything else." Turning to Carson, she stepped outside the house and headed for the vehicles in the driveway. "The ambulance should stay back, but the truck will make the drive." She opened the door of one of the large pickups in the already in the driveway and looked back at Carson. "You coming, Doc?"

~TBC


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note:** My apologies to everyone who has been waiting all day for an update. My family was running from the moment I woke up this morning. So, now that weather is settling in for a good snow, I can post. Just a quick note on this chapter: there's some ten-code used in here. According to what I can find online, 10-70 is "Fire" and 10-71 means "Advise nature of fire." If this isn't accurate, please let me know. As always, enjoy! ~lg

oOo

Debbie Engleside led the group through the expansive Engleside property in stony silence. As it was only Carson and the teenager in the Engleside's truck, he took the opportunity to study her. She was pale, a result of not having seen much sun in recent weeks, but otherwise appeared healthy.

"Just ask, Doc." Her direct tone had softened once she was away from her mother.

"How are you, lass?"

She grinned at him. "Do you talk like that all the time?" When he nodded, she shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah." She looked at him again. "Dad wanted to put me in rehab, send me away like a loser. But Mom wouldn't let him. So, now, I'm pretending to take antidepressants just to keep him happy."

"Pretending?"

"Yeah." She scowled. "Don't get upset, Doc. I spit them out when I have to actually put them in my mouth. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have them in the house." She rolled her eyes at his disbelieving glance. "I know what all of you think: I'm a partier who is addicted to pills and is looking for my next fix. Shows how much you know. I only did that one time, and that was enough for me."

Carson let the topic drop. Debbie was clearly defensive, but she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. She drove in silence for the remainder of the trip, taking the group to a remote cluster of warehouses. Carson eyed them warily as Sheppard jumped out of his truck. Debbie blinked at the firearms that appeared, and Carson shook his head. If he hadn't lived in Esperanza for months, he might have believed this was just another off world mission.

Sheppard reached the door of the first warehouse and cautiously entered. He waved the rest of the team inside, and they looked around. It was empty. Absolutely empty. Carson frowned. "Colonel, if wha' Jorge's sayin' is true, this could be the spot."

"Yeah." Sheppard glanced at Debbie. "Let's hope that's not the case."

"Aye," Carson agreed. Rather than disturbing more evidence, Sheppard had them back out of the warehouse and led the way to the second. They found the exact same thing. The third structure in the grouping wasn't so much a warehouse as it was a small office or home of some sort. Sheppard burst through the door just like he had the first two. This time, he clearly found something. "Doc!"

Carson rushed behind him, seeing Katie strapped to a chair and unconscious. She bled from various wounds, though none of them looked too severe. Her previous medical condition, though, made this situation something that Carson didn't want to see. He couldn't tell if she'd regained consciousness in the transition from the clinic, but the evidence of Engleside's beating showed that the man had wanted something from her.

The paramedics—who had tagged along with Sheppard—glanced at Carson. He carefully approached the chair, reaching out to check her pulse. His heart sank, and he closed his eyes.

"Doc?" Sheppard asked.

Debbie stepped forward. "Is she. . .?"

Carson looked up at the group, his gaze stopping on Debbie. "Aye. She's dead."

oOo

"Oh, no." Rodney's concerned voice pulled Alison out of her pacing. She'd left Carson's office behind and had started walking up and down the hallway. Now, she hurried to the receptionist's area as Rodney typed furiously. "No, no, no, no, no!"

"What?" Jorge demanded impatiently.

Rodney frowned at the screen. "According to this, Katie was getting large sums of money from one of Engleside's accounts."

Alison frowned. "Katie? I thought you were pulling information on Engleside."

"I was." Rodney turned to look at her. "But I found that he'd been paying Katie a huge sum of money for the last eighteen months. I traced those transactions with what Jorge gave me of the DEA's investigation and found that the payments coincided with large shipments of drugs they'd been able to trace. I thought maybe Katie had been blackmailing Engleside, but the coincidence is just too great. So, I did a trace on Katie's finances. She's been depositing a lot of money outside of what she gets here or at the cafe or from Engleside as well. Almost like. . . ."

"Drug deals," Jorge said.

"Yes!" Rodney glanced at Alison. "Thing is, I can't trace the money. I can't find the dealer."

Alison glanced at Jorge. "You said you've seen heroin and marijuana come through the area, right?" She grinned when Jorge nodded. "Debbie Engleside overdosed on meth. Where did that come from?"

Rodney gave her a blank look. "I can't trace that on the computer!"

Jorge closed his eyes with a groan. "Of course! Sorry, I'm not thinking clearly."

"You're concussed," Alison dismissed as she headed for Carson's office.

Rodney glared at her. "Where are you going?"

"Carson compared the meth in Debbie's system to the Desoxyn in the pharmacy." Alison grinned at the two men. "Would that help us?"

"It would help us identify the cook once we found him." Jorge shook his head. "But that wouldn't help us _now_. Short of tracing those deposits to actual buys—which requires a _lot_ of footwork—we have no other option."

Alison looked at both men. "Then what are we waiting for?" She shrugged. "I don't want to do this any more than you do, but it looks like we have no other option."

Jorge pulled out his phone. "Let me call the sheriff first." He glanced at McKay. "I'm assuming he's not involved in any way?"

McKay turned to check his computer, responding after more than a few moments. "Nothing. According to his financials, he's completely clean."

Jorge dialed the number and asked the sheriff to come to the clinic. The man appeared a few moments later, looking incredibly disgruntled with having been pulled away from his mid-afternoon snack at the cafe. He glanced at Alison, giving her a friendly nod before frowning at McKay. "Who are you?"

"Dr. Rodney McKay." The physicist glared back. "Who are you?"

Alison stepped in before the two men could continue the standoff. "Sheriff Peterson, Dr. McKay is a trusted coworker of mine from Colorado. He and Dr. Beckett are close friends, and he's here helping Dr. Beckett with a research project."

Peterson accepted that with a nod. "You wanted to see me."

"Yeah." Jorge took over, guiding the man into a couch. "You might want to sit down, Sheriff. You won't like what I'm about to tell you."

For the next several moments, Alison watched the Sheriff Peterson become more and more irate as Jorge calmly explained his true identity, what he was doing in town, and why he'd relied on Carson, Alison, McKay, and their team. The insinuation that Peterson had been involved in the drug ring stung, but he managed to get past that when they told him about Katie. Apparently the man had known about Katie's habits for some time and hadn't put a stop to it for some reason. Alison didn't want to know the reasons.

Halfway through Rodney explaining what they'd found on Engleside, Peterson's radio squawked. "All units, be advised. We have a ten-seventy in progress," the dispatcher said as she rattled off an address.

Alison's eyes popped open. "That's right down the street from Carson's house!"

Peterson glanced at her and reached for his radio. "Dispatch, ten-seventy-one."

The dispatcher was silent for a time. "Negative, ten-seventy-one. Neighbor reported seeing flames through a window."

Peterson stood suddenly. "I hate to break this up, but a fire's been reported down the street from the Doc's house. What are the odds this is a coincidence?"

Jorge shook his head, the small group already heading outside. "Quite low."

oOo

Carson watched as the paramedics gently loaded Katie's body onto the ambulance. He felt like a failure. Just that morning, he'd done everything in his power to save her life, and it had all been for naught. In addition, he felt responsible for what had happened to her. If she'd not taken his serum, then she wouldn't have been in such a dire medical condition. She might have survived Engleside's beating. Those were the cold facts, and Carson hated being so callous.

The sheriff had sent his deputy out as soon as he received word of the death on Engleside's ranch. Apparently the man was in some sort of meeting and couldn't be bothered. Carson could have cared less. The deputy had questioned him and sent him on his way, and he now watched Engleside's wife and daughter.

Debbie stood on the porch with her mother, the older woman devastated by the covered stretcher the paramedics tucked into the ambulance. Carson headed for them, knowing they were innocent in all of this. "I'm so sorry this happened," he said softly.

Mrs. Engleside turned teary eyes to him. "You think Doug did this?"

Debbie rolled her eyes. "Mom. He hits you. Of _course_ he did this."

"But he said he loved her." Mrs. Engleside's composure broke completely. "He said. . . ."

Carson put a hand on her shoulder, trying to console her. If he knew government organizations, the DEA would likely swoop in and take over from local law enforcement. He didn't care which way it happened so long as they found Doug Engleside.

Debbie clearly had that same idea. "So, where's Dad?"

Carson turned to frown at Sheppard. "I don't know, lass. I wish I did."

The cell phone in his pocket rang, and he glanced at the caller ID on the front. It was Alison's number. Punching the Answer key, he put it to his ear. "Ali-love, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She sounded like she was running. "Get to your house! There's a fire right down the street!"

"A fire?" Carson's tired mind tried to keep up with the changes in his situation. First, he arrived home from a spectacular vacation in the Swiss Alps to Katie stealing his serum. Now, Katie was dead, and his home was in danger of burning? He turned to Sheppard, who headed for the truck the group had brought. "I'm on my way, love. Just hang in there."

Sheppard climbed behind the wheel of the truck. "Doc? What does a fire have to do with this entire situation?"

"I don't know, Colonel." Carson shook his head. "But Alison's somehow involved. At least it's not the clinic."

"Yeah." Sheppard's tone said what he kept unspoken. _That's little comfort._

Carson fell silent for the quick ride back into town. Sheppard was a pilot, and his skills came in handy as he blew past every speed limit between the Engleside's ranch and Carson's home. They turned onto the street, thick black smoke towering above the neighborhood. The sheriff's car was parked blocking the street, but he let Carson through when he saw the man. The sheriff even pointed out Alison, who stood in front of a house several doors down and on the other side of the street. McKay stood next to her, and Jorge crouched beside a soot-covered Doug Engleside.

Carson moved to Alison's side and was surprised to see her crying. "Ali-love, what happened?"

She turned to him, her face smudged by the soot in the air. "I never believed it!" She turned to walk a few steps away, shaking her head. "Even after all the things we've seen, Carson, I never would have believed it if we hadn't seen it for ourselves."

"Seen what?"

She looked at him, then, her blue eyes shocked. "When we got here, the house was burning. Doug was. . . .He said that no one was alive inside anymore. That he'd taken care of it."

Carson blinked at her. "What?"

She shook her head. "He killed the man inside!"

~TBC


	24. Chapter 24

The fallout from all the events was slow in settling in to Esperanza. Once Carson had answered all the questions that Sheriff Peterson wanted to ask, he walked Alison across the street and into his home. Sheppard, McKay, Ronon, and Teyla joined them, the group silent as Alison sat on the couch with tears streaming down her face. She'd been exposed to the smoke from the fire, and she knew that she'd probably have sinus problems for a day or so. Carson allowed her to slip into his bathroom to wash her face and hands, and she smiled gratefully at him when he offered her a clean shirt. It would get most of the smoke off of her, and she could take care of the rest when she got home.

No one commented on Carson's oversized shirt when she reappeared. Jorge hadn't joined them, too busy helping Peterson get Engleside into custody. Engleside's actions—killing Katie, killing the man inside the house, and setting the fire—ensured that he was going away for life. The bittersweet reality was that the rest of the drug ring had likely vanished back to Mexico or Columbia and couldn't be found by the DEA. After a while, Carson broke the silence. "We found Katie."

McKay rolled his eyes. "Well, we kind of figured that." He jumped and glanced at Ronon, who had kicked him. "What?"

Alison turned back to Carson. "How is she?"

Carson blinked a few times and then shook his head. "She didn't make it. Engleside beat her so severely that her weakened body wasn't able to handle it."

That blow was another that Alison didn't need. The tears she'd kept at bay started flowing again, and Carson pulled her into his arms. The team stayed silent around them, accepting her and realizing that this was a bitter end to the entire affair. Carson propped his head on Alison's, letting his own emotions bleed off in a deep sigh. Comforting another person seemed to soothe the anger and bitterness swirling in his stomach at the thought that he'd, once again, lost a patient. Had he been on Atlantis, he might have saved her life. But here, in Esperanza, he wasn't able to do much of anything.

Finally, Sheppard put a hand on Carson's shoulder. "We'll be at the bed and breakfast," the colonel said softly. "If you think they'll have room for us."

McKay chuckled. "Santa has room for everyone."

Teyla blinked. "Santa? As in Santa Claus?"

Alison didn't lift her head from Carson's shoulder, but he heard her emotional laugh and knew it would only be a matter of time before she collapsed into an exhausted slumber. He grinned. "Not really Santa, love," he said to Teyla. "He just has a big white beard like Santa."

"I see," Teyla said with a smile. "Colonel Sheppard has been teaching Torren about Santa Claus."

Sheppard shrugged. "It's Christmas," he said as if that explained everything.

"Aye," Carson replied.

The group left the house a short time later. Once the door closed, Alison lifted her head. "I should have handled this better."

Carson lifted her chin. "Don't beat yourself up, love." He smiled sadly. "You've known these people all your life."

She sighed. "I know." Moving to the window, she looked down the street to where the volunteer fire department watched the house that still burned. "It was a meth lab. That's why they allowed it to burn."

Carson stepped up behind her and pulled her into his arms. As she relaxed against his chest, he shook his head. "I never would ha'e believed it if I hadn't seen all of this play out."

"Kind of anticlimactic, isn't it?"

"Aye."

They stood in silence for a time, watching the activity before Alison moved to the couch. Carson offered to start a fire but stopped when she glanced out the window again. Perhaps they should wait on any kind of fire until the emotion of the afternoon had faded. At a loss for what to do, Carson simply sat next to Alison and listened as she told him about her afternoon, the money trail Rodney had followed, and finding Engleside outside of the house. He shared his adventures of the day, and they simply enjoyed one another's company. Carson smiled again when Alison finally nodded off on his shoulder, and he gently moved so that she could stretch out on the couch. She barely stirred, a sign that her emotion and the stress—not to mention jet lag from having barely returned from the Alps—had caught up to her.

The sun had fully set when Carson saw lights cross the window of his house as a car pulled into the driveway. He rushed to open the door, hoping not to wake Alison from her sleep. He grinned when he saw Margaret watching the residual activity down the street from his home. Firefighters still worked, trying to ferret out hot spots in the rubble that might flare up again. When she saw him in the door, she hurried inside. Seeing Alison sleeping on his couch, she smirked. "I figured she'd be here."

"Aye," Carson said softly as he closed the door. He pulled Margaret into his office where they could talk without worrying about waking Alison. "I'd like for her to stay here tonight."

Margaret grinned at him. "You don't need my permission for her to stay, Carson. Nor does she." She sobered quickly. "Is it true about Doug?"

He glanced away from her and leaned against his desk. "It is." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Margaret. I know you've known the Engleside family for a lot o' years."

She didn't reply. Folding her arms across her chest, she moved out of the office to stare at her daughter. "How was Alison involved?"

"She was helping Dr. McKay and Jorge investigate." Carson shook his head. "I went after Katie when the lass was kidnapped from the clinic, and Alison stayed behind. She was there when the fire was called in to the sheriff's office and arrived in time to hear Engleside's confession. He had tracked down the meth dealer that had sold the drugs to Debbie and killed him before setting fire to the house."

Margaret nodded and glanced at Carson. "I'll be back with some dinner and clothes for her. She probably wants to get the smell of smoke off of her before too much longer."

"Aye," Carson agreed.

Margaret faced him. "You're good for her," she said forcefully. "And she's good for you."

He took Margaret by the shoulders and steered her toward the door. "Don't worry, Mum." He used the endearment on purpose. "I don't intend to let her out of my life so easily."

"Good." With that, Margaret was gone and left Carson to his thoughts.

oOo

Alison woke slowly, smiling at the familiar sights around her. The couch wasn't the most comfortable, but the blanket was warm. Delicious aromas came from the kitchen, and she heard Carson moving about as quietly as he could. Waking in his home wasn't a normal occurrence for her, but she wanted to experience it—and a lot of things—on a regular basis. For just a moment, she decided to ignore her job with the SGC, everything that had happened that day, and the pressures of life to pretend that this was her life. That she and Carson shared everything she wanted to share with him.

Finally, she sat up. He stood in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. Either he knew she was awake or he hadn't noticed her stirring. Alison figured it was the former option and instead smoothed her hair down while she stood and stretched. Carson glanced at her but waited for her to join him in the kitchen. He greeted her with a slow kiss. "Your mum stopped by a while back with some dinner and clothes for you." He pointed to a bag on his easy chair. "You can shower and change if you like."

Alison nodded. "Thanks, Carson."

"Always, love." He watched her go, and Alison almost asked him to join her in the shower. It wasn't the time, though the thought was quite appealing. Pushing it aside, she started the water and found her shampoo, body soap, fresh clothing in the bag her mother brought.

Once clean and free from the smell of smoke, Alison rejoined Carson in the kitchen. He served her meal and settled across from her, allowing her to see how exhausted he really was. She thanked him for having her, and the smile he gave her was worth every moment. Like when they were in the Swiss Alps, the two of them stayed up talking until neither of them could see straight. The emotional events of the day were covered, and Carson freely admitted how Katie's death affected him. Though he'd never fully liked the woman on a personal level, she'd been a good employee.

Just before she drifted to sleep on his shoulder, Alison smiled. "I like this," she said, sleep slurring her words. "Just me and you."

"Aye," he answered softly. "Me, too."

She fell asleep, unaware of how he stared at the ceiling for a good long time and truly thought about the decisions he faced.

oOo

Christmas Day dawned bright and clear. Carson woke with a smile, grateful that the events of the week could be put behind them for a time. Katie's funeral would be held two days after Christmas, and Doug Engleside had been transported to a county holding facility until he was arraigned. Jorge had left Esperanza completely with his investigation complete, but he admitted that he would be back. His time in the DEA was coming to a close, and he liked the town well enough to bring his family to live there. The DEA found evidence of drugs in Engleside's warehouses, but they couldn't locate the shipments or Engleside's foreman. That particular person seemed to have disappeared without a trace. Jorge assured Carson that they would find the man, but peace had returned to the town.

Christmas would be good for Esperanza. Though it had been an incredible season for Carson—not counting the time between his trip to the Alps and Christmas Day—the town had suffered. Mrs. Engleside and her daughter had left for good, heading back to Boston to build a life for themselves. Katie's death and Doug's involvement in it shook the town, and people were glad to have a reason to think about something other than death, drugs, corruption, or betrayal.

Now, Carson pulled a plastic-draped hangar from the rear of his closet and laid the clothes out on his bed. He'd not had a reason to wear this particular outfit before, but he hoped Margaret and Alison would understand. Just yesterday, Alison had pulled him aside while he helped serve the Christmas Eve rush in the coffee house and explained the family tradition of dressing formally for Christmas Day. Apparently, it went back to Alison's paternal grandparents, and Carson readily agreed to show up to Margaret's home dressed for a night on the town, never mind that it would just be him, Alison, and Margaret. He quite looked forward to seeing the ladies that day and realized he'd found another family outside of his Atlantis family.

Finally, with his kilt, tux jacket, sporran, kilt hose, and every hair in place, Carson gathered his Christmas gifts and drove to the Porter house. He wasn't ashamed of his Scottish heritage, though he saw a few curious glances aimed his way. He remembered Rodney's assertion that Carson wouldn't wear a kilt at the McKay-Keller wedding and wondered how Jennifer's Christmas Day had gone. Rodney had planned to propose early that morning, and he'd hurried back to Canada after turning everything he'd discovered on Engleside, Katie, and the meth dealer down the street over to Jorge.

Alison answered Carson's knock, and she stopped and simply stared. His smile widened as her eyes traveled from his face to his feet and back. He did his own inspection, loving what he saw. Alison wore a sleek sleeveless black dress that ended just below her knees. The neckline was modestly scooped, but the dress hugged her curves in a way that was both modest and utterly enchanting. The watch Sheppard bought for her in Switzerland glittered around her left wrist, and she wore that distracting diamond necklace that nestled into the hollow at her throat.

Deciding that he could make a move now, Carson stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. "You look stunning," he said softly.

Alison didn't move away from him, smiling up into his eyes. "So do you."

Carson chuckled at that and bent to kiss her. She responded immediately, slipping her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer to his body. Realizing that Margaret would find this utterly thrilling, he didn't even respond when the woman rounded the corner.

"Alison, are you going to let the man inside. . . .Oh!"

Carson lifted his head and didn't look away from Alison. "Hello, Margaret."

Alison flushed crimson, thrilling him even more. "Mom!"

Margaret had the grace to look a bit chagrined on walking in on her daughter and daughter's boyfriend almost making out. "Sorry. I'll just. . . .I'll be in the kitchen." She ducked around the corner.

Alison waited until she heard pots clang together to share a laugh with Carson. She shook her head. "While that was _totally_ embarrassing for me, I've never seen _her_ embarrassed like that!"

"Aye," Carson agreed as he accompanied Alison into the living room. "But, in her defense, when have you been around and dating anyone?"

"Like you?" Alison shrugged. "Never." She paused for a moment and then allowed her grin to spread across her face. "I really do like the kilt, Carson."

"Good." He returned the grin with a cheeky smile of his own. "Because I'll honestly say I wasn't too certain about wearin' it today."

"I'm glad you did."

They found Margaret in the kitchen and helped the woman finish up Christmas dinner. Nothing more was said of the incident beside the door, though Margaret asked multiple questions about Carson's "get-up," as she termed it. She was never disrespectful, but she knew nothing about Scottish tradition. He willingly shared about the Highland Games, proper etiquette, and various other questions, smiling at Alison as he did so. The curiosity didn't offend him, and he realized he'd probably have other questions from various townspeople once regular business started up again.

With Christmas dinner eaten, the dishes loaded into the dishwasher, and the trio feeling quite satisfied with themselves, they settled into the living room furniture around the tiny tree Margaret had set up. Business at the coffee house had been such that Alison and her mother hadn't really decorated the house. It was more than Carson had done, preferring to enjoy the tree he and Alison had decorated at the coffee house.

Now, though, Margaret beamed when she realized Carson had added two gifts to the tiny pile beneath it. She handed them out and, with a firm glare at Carson for asking her to go first, opened his gift to her. The gold bracelet with three gemstones and three names made her cry, as Carson suspected it might. But she hugged him tightly, thanking him for thinking of her family. The bracelet had the Margaret's, Alison's, and Alison's father's birthstones and names on it. She immediately put it on her wrist, and he knew it would likely stay there from now on.

Alison slowly opened her gift next. Carson hadn't known what to get for her outside of jewelry, so he'd chosen carefully when picking up the necklace. A diamond-accented snowflake of white gold hung from a delicate chain. She asked him to put it on immediately, and Margaret grinned as he fumbled with the clasp. Finally, as it settled next to the other necklace she wore, he smiled. "For our time in the Alps."

Alison's hand went to it, and she went cross-eyed trying to see it. "I love it, Carson. Thank you."

They would have stared at one another had Margaret not cleared her throat. "Okay, love birds, get on with life!"

Carson gave her an indulgent look before glancing at Alison. "Did she ever have these moments with your father?"

Alison shuddered. "Worse!"

Margaret threw a balled up piece of wrapping paper at her daughter, bouncing it off of her head with accuracy that spoke of years of practice.

Finally, it was time for Carson to open his gift. He carefully unwrapped the box, but his breath left him in a rush when he saw the _sgian-dubh_ lying in the black velvet. One of the finest he'd ever seen, it had cairngorm stones on the polished bog wood hilt. Pulling the knife from its sheath, he smiled at the acid etching on the blade. "Alison, this is. . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence without tears in his eyes. It meant so much to him to have such a gift on Christmas Day. He might not have been able to return to the home he remembered in Scotland, but she had managed to give him a piece of Scotland. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Carson." She hugged him when he pulled her close.

The evening passed quietly after sharing gifts. Alison kicked off the low heels she'd worn all day, and Carson eventually ditched his sporran and bow tie. By the time he returned home, he was firm in his decisions for the future. More than simply being a small-town doctor, he wanted a life with Alison and his family close. And he could only do that from one place: Atlantis.

~TBC

**Author's Note: **I am sitting at my parents' place sipping Mountain Dew (it was eggnog a few moments ago!) and posting this. There's one more chapter to post tomorrow, but I don't quite know what my schedule will be with the holiday. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas Eve! ~lg


	25. Epilogue

**Author's Note:** Well, folks, here it is: the final chapter! I hope you've enjoyed this story as much as I did. There are more stories in the works, but I've been enjoying some time to just let my muse rest and have fun over the holidays. As always, let me know what you think, and be looking out for my next story that is (hopefully!) coming in the next couple of weeks! ~lg

oOo

Alison left Esperanza three days after Christmas. She stayed for Katie's funeral, her arm looped comfortingly through Carson's as they watched the woman's casket as it was lowered into the ground. Not many people came to the memorial, and Carson was disheartened to see so few family members. He stayed out of respect for life, though he wondered if Katie had ever had someone who cared enough about her to pull her out of her lifestyle. The sadness of it all rested on his shoulders as he drove Alison and Margaret back to their home.

Alison's departure solidified a lot of things for Carson. He began searching for a replacement, thinking that he'd return to Atlantis soon. And he contacted Mr. Woolsey, who welcomed him back with open arms. The period between Katie's funeral and New Year's was quiet, though the emails from Alison told of back-to-back off world missions. She sounded happy when she spoke about her team, but he heard the wistfulness in her voice when she called him each day.

He missed her. More than he missed Atlantis, more than he missed his friends, he ached for Alison's presence. Their time together, while short, had showed him how deeply he truly cared for her. He kept the _sgian-dubh_ she'd bought him for Christmas on his desk, often holding the dagger and wondering if he had made the right decisions in his life. His time in Switzerland—with the team—had answered many of his questions about who he was. He'd accepted the idea that he was Carson Beckett, that he was driven by the same desires, that he shared the same passion for saving lives. He no longer felt like he belonged in Esperanza, no matter how the townspeople accepted him. With Engleside's ranch going belly-up, several businesses had closed down, and the town struggled to survive. Even Margaret started thinking about moving Porter's Tea and Coffee House closer to her daughter's job in Colorado.

Carson's relief came in from an unlikely source. Two weeks into January, Jorge appeared in the clinic with a surprising offer. He'd left the DEA following the events in Esperanza, and he wanted to purchase the clinic. He knew that Carson wasn't meant to be in a town like this, and he was qualified as a nurse practitioner. Very few people in the town knew of his work with the DEA, leaving him wide open to take over the business. Within a week, Carson had signed papers, talked Margaret into transferring rent over to Jorge and his family, and packed up his belongings.

It was time to go home.

oOo

Atlantis was the same as when he'd left, yet different. There was a weariness about the faces of the city's long-time residents that Carson didn't find surprising. The IOA still dragged their feet about letting the city return to Pegasus, and even Woolsey had started considering mutiny. This came from Sheppard, of course, who kept Carson updated on events in the city. Carson shook Woolsey's hand and walked to his new quarters, somewhat relieved they weren't the ones he'd occupied in a previous life. It would have felt a little too weird to him.

After taking some time to settle in, he left his quarters and strolled to the infirmary. Rodney had emailed to tell Carson that Jennifer said "Yes!" Carson smiled now as he saw the young doctor treating Ronon for a cut above the eye. The Satedan shrugged at Jennifer's scolding and left a few moments later, butterfly bandage in place.

Jennifer smiled at Carson. "I heard you were coming back."

"Aye," he said as he hugged her. "Mr. Woolsey's been kind enough to give me a research position here, an' I'll be takin' some shifts in the infirmary as well."

"It's great to have you back, Carson." Jennifer held out her left hand. "Look what Rodney got me for Christmas!"

He laughed at her enthusiasm and gave the large diamond solitaire its due attention. "It's beautiful, lass. You'll make a wonderful bride."

Jennifer blushed at that and returned to her duties. Marie stood next to a work bench, watching and reminding him of his departure months ago. Carson moved to her side, a smile touching his lips as he saw the tears in her eyes. "Marie."

"Carson." She shook her head. "You came back."

"That I did."

The nurse hugged him then, and he remembered how insistent she'd been about his promise that he'd return to Atlantis to visit. At that time, it had reminded her of the other Carson's death, and he hadn't had the heart to tell her that he wasn't carrying a bomb out of the infirmary. Now, he was grateful to be here, as well as to know that he had found his place.

That evening, after making the rounds and smiling until his face hurt, he stood outside of one specific set of quarters. Teldy's team had been off world for most of the day, but Sheppard had quietly informed him of their return. He gave Alison enough time to get through her post-mission physical and to clean up from the mission before arriving at her door. Now, she answered his entry request wearing a pair of jeans, button-down blouse, and the snowflake necklace he'd given her for Christmas.

"Carson?" She blinked up at him. "You're really here?"

"I'm really here." He stepped inside and, mentally commanding the door to close behind him, took her in his arms. After kissing her like he'd dreamed about doing for the last three weeks, he held her close. "I'm back for good."

Alison pulled away just enough to look at him. "For good?"

"Aye." He put a hand on her face, gently rubbing her cheekbone with his thumb. "Esperanza's a beautiful town, but it's not where I belong."

"And where is that?"

"Here. With you." He grinned at the fire lit in her eyes at that comment.

"You know, Carson, I was supposed to meet Dusty and Anne for dinner." She wiggled out of his arms long enough to grab her radio. "I'm thinking I might change those plans."

His eyebrows rose as he caught the meaning behind her words. "Don't, love," he said softly. When she frowned at him, he leaned close to whisper in her ear, "There's plenty of time for that later. I happen to know you've been given tomorrow as a day off."

Alison blinked up at him and nodded. "You're right." Then, she grinned. "Dr. Beckett, would you like to join me for dinner?"

Remembering the night she first flirted with him, telling him that he'd never played poker with her before, he grinned. "Dr. Porter, I'd be delighted."

oOo

Three days later, Carson sat in the mess hall with Sheppard's team around him. Alison had gone off world again that morning, leaving him behind to continue researching the effects of the serum that kept him alive on the human body. The events in Esperanza raised some alarm at the SGC, but Carson knew it would settle in time. He wanted to know if there was a way to modify the serum so that it could be used for more than stabilizing his own condition.

Now, however, he enjoyed a second cup of coffee as the banter flowed freely. The grill that Major Lorne had manned months ago still stood on one side of the patio, showing signs of regular usage. News of Carson's relationship with Alison had spread through the base, and most everyone smiled to see the pair together. Jennifer and Rodney's engagement had also made waves, as had Lorne's proposal to Amanda two days ago in the infirmary. That time, Carson had been on hand to see the battered, tired major unexpectedly ask his doctor to marry him. Amanda had spluttered, leaned close to carefully kiss Lorne, and then promptly asked Carson to take over the major's care. Carson had laughed with the rest of the infirmary and happily tended the major's wounds.

"So," Rodney asked, interrupting Carson's thoughts, "what made you decide to come back?"

Sheppard shrugged when Carson blinked. "We _have_ been wondering. Was it Porter?"

Carson shook his head. "Aye, it was Alison. And, no. It wasn't Alison."

Rodney frowned. "Either it was or it wasn't, Carson. You can't have it both ways."

"Yes I can, Rodney!" Carson frowned at the physicist. "Alison was the one who helped me see who I am and where I belong. My decision to come back was based on that realization. Having Alison close is just icing on the cake, as you like to say."

Ignoring Sheppard's smirk at that, Rodney held up a hand. "Wait. Where you belong? Didn't you use that excuse when you left?"

"Aye." Carson shook his head. "I needed to get away to realize my family is here. I don't belong in a little town, treatin' broken bones and drug addicts and little old ladies. My place is here, on Atlantis."

"Well, I could have told you _that_," Rodney replied. "In fact, I _did_ tell you that."

"So you did," Carson agreed quietly. He'd missed this banter with his family and Rodney's impatience. "Maybe I just needed to realize it for myself."

Teyla smiled at the two. "Well, I, for one, am happy that you have decided to stay, Carson."

"Yeah, Doc," Ronon said as he stood up. "Wasn't the same without you around." He ambled off to finish training with some new Marines. Teyla also excused herself, and Sheppard agreed to come see Torren with her. That left Carson and Rodney at the table.

Rodney met his friend's eyes. "Seriously. You're sure about coming back?"

"Yes, Rodney, I am." Carson picked up his coffee cup.

"So, you and Porter?" Rodney grinned. "You proposing any time soon?"

"Perhaps." Seeing the sly look on the physicist's face, he shook his head. "Besides the fact that I doubt Jennifer would want a double weddin', I don't think you want to wear a kilt for it."

Rodney choked on his coffee, tears springing to his eyes. "A _kilt_?" he asked in a strangled voices.

"Aye." Carson grinned. "When Alison and I get married, all my groomsmen will have to wear one."

"When. . .you get married?" Rodney still hadn't recovered form his coughing fit. "You just said you hadn't proposed."

"Doesn't mean we haven't talked about it."

The two men sat on the mess hall patio, their banter going back and forth and often seen as humorous by others in the city. Carson sat back in his chair and looked out over the Pacific Ocean. _Aye, this is where I belong,_ he thought. _An' I'm happy to be here._

~The End~


End file.
